


Give Up (The Machine Gun)

by OurLadyofPerpetualWallflowers



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Begging, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Dirty Talk, M/M, Pansexual Billy Hargrove, Smoking, Steve just wants to help, billy doesn't know how to handle affection, billy has terrible coping mechanisms, billy is very informed on sexual identities, billy needs somebody to show him how to be a normal person, but dear god does he want it, dustin is amazing, hopper really wants to shoot neil, negotiation of boundaries, neil is a horrible human being, slight praise kink, steve and billy respect the idea of consent, steve doesn't know what he's doing, steve gives it a shot, steve has a slight gay panic, susan gets a chance to explain herself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-16 08:38:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13632699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OurLadyofPerpetualWallflowers/pseuds/OurLadyofPerpetualWallflowers
Summary: When Steve finds out Billy's secret, it leads to a weird deal between the two of them: Billy comes to Steve when he's hurt, and Steve doesn't turn Mr. Hargrove into the cops.It works until it doesn't and along the way, both boys get more than they bargained for.





	1. maybe nobody loved you when you were young

**Author's Note:**

> I really just wanted an excuse to have Steve gently taking care of Billy and being firmly protective of him. Everything else is just a means to an end, except for Billy's mom; I had a headcanon and shoehorned it in here. I'm not great with fics that have dialogue yet, so bear with me. Work and chapter titles are from 'Machine Gun' by Sara Bareilles. Enjoy.

It started in gym, because outside of gym, he and Billy interacted exactly zero percent. They never crossed paths outside school and once it started back up, it wasn't like they sought each other out. They had no classes together, their lockers were in separate halls, and Steve stopped eating lunch with the people Billy hung out with around the time he decided he didn’t want to be a dick the rest of his life, Nancy or no Nancy. 

So gym was the only time they ever crossed paths and for that, Steve was mostly grateful. Until today. They were playing shirts and skins, and for once Steve was skins and Billy was shirts. There had been a falling out at some point between Tommy and Billy (probably around the time Carol got a ride home in a certain blue Camaro and spent all the next day bragging about how long it took) but the two of them had been at each other’s throats the whole game. 

Actually, Tommy had been at Billy’s throat the whole game, hurling insults and stealing shots, while Billy seemed to be ignoring him completely, focus locked on the ball as if it was the only thing that mattered.

Billy made a drive up the center of the court and he was perfectly set up to make another shot when Tommy came out of nowhere and slammed his fist straight into Billy’s ribs, making him drop the ball and drop to his knees. Steve reacted on instinct, not even thinking about it as he hip-checked Tommy away and planted himself between him and Billy, hands grasping at a bat that wasn’t there.

Coach went crazy, storming onto the court, whistle blowing so hard it sounded like a scream as he grabbed Tommy by the back of the neck, already mid-yell as he opened his mouth. “-HELL ARE YOU DOING, HILL?!? HE’S ON YOUR FUCKING TEAM!!” He caught sight of Steve, of Billy still on the ground behind him, and made the decision that set Steve on a collision course with the rest of his life. 

“Harrington! Take Hargrove into the locker room and wrap those ribs! The rest of you-laps until the bell! Hill, you’re coming with me!” There was no time to argue as he hauled Tommy away, no doubt headed for the principal’s office, and the rest of the class scattered, heading for the wall to begin their laps, leaving Steve with the guy who beat him unconscious the last time they were left unsupervised together. 

Hargrove was still on his hands and knees, one arm wrapped around his chest, head down as he breathed forcefully through his nose. Steve took a step, debated resting a hand on his back, settled for clearing his throat. 

“Can you get up?” Billy didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t even flip him off. Just breathed. 

“Look Hargrove, I don’t wanna do this either but if Coach gets back and you’re still on this court, he’s gonna suspend both our butts. So either get up or I’m dragging you out of here.”  
Billy stood shakily, keeping his arm around his chest, and staggered his way to the locker room without sparing Steve a backwards glance. Once inside, Billy lowered himself down onto a bench with a hiss. Steve rolled his eyes but dutifully got the first aid kit down and pulled out the sports wrap. This was going to suck but the last thing he needed was Coach screaming at him for not taking care of a teammate and besides, Billy looked kind of worse for wear.

“Take your shirt off.”

“Go...fuck...yourself.” 

Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on and he couldn’t begin to describe how much he did not want to do this but Billy’s words were coming out in pained gasps and he still had that arm wrapped around himself. 

“Take your damn shirt off so I can wrap your ribs and get the fuck out of here.” Billy huffed and glared at the floor. 

“I can...wrap it myself...just go ‘way.” 

“Okay.” Steve sucked at his teeth and nodded. “You bet, amigo. Tell you what, you give me a high-five for a good game and I’ll walk out right now.” He held his hand up level with Billy’s head and waited as Billy shifted his glare to Steve’s hand, then back to the floor.

“That’s what I thought. Shirt. Off. Now.” Billy scowled harder and muttered something under his breath, making Steve lean closer to try and hear it.

“What?” Billy huffed and slammed one heel against the ground in frustration, startling Steve into jerking back, hand raised to defend himself. 

“I can’t raise my arm.” He curled into himself and Steve hated that this close he could see how pale Billy was under his tan, how he was pressing his lips together tightly and trying to breath without moving his chest. Billy was strung tight as a wire, holding himself like he was waiting for something. “Would you go already?”

“Yeah, what kind of asshole do you think I am, Hargrove? I’m not gonna leave you here like this.” Steve took a seat next to him on the bench, straddling it and running a hand through his hair as he sighed. “I’m gonna lift your shirt up. Do not punch me.”

“No, wait-!” He didn’t give Billy time to respond, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible so he’s had the blonde’s shirt under his armpits before Billy could try and stop him, and his eyes widened at the sight of his body underneath the grey shirt. 

“What the fuck?!” Billy’s side was a mass of bruises, yellow and green tinged with purple, too old to be the result of Tommy’s sucker punch less than fifteen minutes ago. Billy tried to pull away but the movement had him yelping in pain and Steve grabbed his waist to hold him still without conscious thought.

“Don’t-Jesus, don’t fucking move. Just, just stay still.” Billy was panting shallowly, eyes wide and darting from side to side, like he was planning to make a break for it and Steve...fuck it, Steve wasn’t letting that happen. He didn’t even know how the hell Billy was playing ball before Tommy hit him but he’s positive that if he tried to move right now, what looked like a cracked rib was gonna break and puncture a lung or something. Steve did not want to deal with that. He did not. So there was only one thing to do really, despite how much he knew it was a terrible idea. Worse than following the kids into those tunnels. But fuck it, here went nothing.

“Look.” He waited until Billy’s eyes landed on him again. “I’m gonna wrap your ribs. I’m gonna try not to make it hurt more than it has to but it’s gonna hurt, okay, so I am asking you, as a personal favor, try and not kill me over it. Okay?”

Billy stared at him, almost through him, and Steve realized he was softly stroking the small of Billy’s back with his thumb at the same time Billy jerked his head in something that might possibly have been considered a nod. Steve shook his head in response and didn’t move.

“Yeah, no, I need you to actually say it before I do this. Use your words, man.” Billy’s eyes narrowed at him and Steve waited patiently, completely tense with the very real possibility that he was going to have to make a break for the door although, seeing as how Hargrove could barely move, Steve was pretty sure he’d win that fight. 

“...not gonna kill you.”

The words were quiet but distinct as Billy dropped his head again. Steve could literally feel the fight going out of him, iron muscles relaxing and leaving Billy listing dangerously towards Steve. Maybe it was the leftover rush of adrenaline from the game, maybe it was the relief at not getting the shit kicked out of him again but for some reason, Steve moved enough to let Billy’s head fall onto his shoulder before he carefully started winding the sports wrap around Billy’s rips, wincing every time he had to put pressure on the cluster of bruises.


	2. Maybe, boy, when you cry, nobody ever comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve learns why Billy has those bruises and then he suddenly has a new concern to deal with and he realizes he may have bitten off more than he can chew.

By the time it was over, Steve had a crick in his neck and a lapful of Billy, who’d gone almost boneless in Steve’s hands, slumped over sideways against him. 

“Hey, Hargrove. You asleep on me, man?” Steve hesitated at jostling him, not wanting to spook him and get another forehead to the face. He settled for tapping a finger against the back of Billy’s head. 

“I wish. I’m fucking exhausted.” Billy mumbled into Steve’s neck and made no move to either get up or throw Steve’s hands off him.

“Yeah, probably couldn’t sleep on this too good, huh?” Steve could hear the sounds of the other players still running laps and he knew they were on borrowed time but he was strangely reluctant to lose this version of Hargrove. It was like seeing a wild animal in its natural habitat, relaxed and at ease. A calm and pliant Billy was somehow just as rare and elusive. Still, they needed to move. Might as well bite the bullet and piss Billy off sooner rather than later. Besides, Steve wanted to know what the hell had happened. 

“So. Who did this?”

Steve was ready for a rough shove to the floor and a ‘Mind your own damn business’. He was also prepared for the name of any of a hundred Hawkins High students. To be honest, he was expecting to hear ‘Tommy’ fall out of Billy’s mouth along with number of vulgar and descriptive modifiers either before or after it. The thing he was one hundred percent, completely and utterly unprepared to hear was the actual answer Billy gave him.

“My dad.” 

Steve didn’t respond. Mainly because he didn’t know how to respond, but Billy seemed to take his silence as a cue that his answer wasn’t complete enough and he exhaled roughly before explaining.

“I got a A- in Trig. He’s still pissed about the night I lost Max. Worked me over too much.” Billy finally sat back up, one hand knuckling at his eyes, and Steve shivered at the loss of body heat as Billy continued. “Can you get my bag? I got...got pills in there.”

Steve had questions burning in his mind but they couldn’t seem to find their way out of his mouth as he numbly walked over to Billy’s locker and tugged the door open to grab a beat up leather bag. He brought it back over to the bench and with a look at Billy, who might as well have been asleep sitting up, he flipped it open and peered inside.

There were textbooks, two notebooks, a handful of pens with the ends chewed off, a pack of smokes. A blue bandana stained with what Steve hoped was motor oil. And then at the very bottom, a pill bottle with a label that said ‘Hargrove, William A.- Take with food’. Steve paused, a question finally working its way out of his throat.

“Uh. What’s in this? Because if it’s illegal...Well, okay, I don’t know but is it illegal?” Billy chuckled and then grimaced, hand pressed against the bandage on his chest.

“Laughing hurts. It’s painkillers. I hid ‘em after my wrist broke. They make me..” He made a vague hand motion that Steve took to mean ‘this weird state where I’m not trying to rip your head off and have the physical and mental restraint of a toddler’ before he slowly grabbed the bottle and opened it with his teeth. Steve had a sudden thought, reaching out to stop him before he could toss a couple in his mouth. 

“Wait, wait, how many of these have you had today? Billy? How many pills have you taken?” Billy blinked up at him and shit, how did Steve and the coach and everybody miss the way his pupils were blown wide and glassy. Hargrove was high as a fucking kite. Billy seemed to think hard for a moment before he explained.

“One this morning. Hurt to drive. Then...another at lunch? Maybe? No, I ate here today. Couldn’t take one in the cafeteria. I took two before the game so I could play though. Was that wrong?” Billy looked worried, expression open and guileless like doing something wrong was the worst thing ever, and Steve wasn’t sure whether to laugh at the state Billy was in or slam his head against a wall at his terrible luck. He sighed and rested a hand on Billy’s shoulder, tossing the pill bottle back into the bag. 

“Not...wrong, but...you can’t take that many so close together. You’ll get sick.” 

“It hurts though.” Billy dropped his head and his forehead came to rest against Steve’s bare stomach and god, Steve was not equipped for this. At all. It’s one thing to babysit a bunch of pre-teens who only sometimes fight inter-dimensional monsters but mainly spend too much time at the arcade and another thing entirely to deal with a raging bully who’s doped up to the point of submission. 

And that’s when Steve made his first mistake.

Because as soon as he realized that, he realized that he couldn’t leave Hargrove alone like this, defenseless and injured, anymore than he could have let the kids go into the tunnels alone. If any of the guys found Billy wasted like this, they’d mess with him without a thought. And God forbid if Tommy found him. 

Sometimes not being a dick really sucked.

“All right. Let’s get you out of here.” He grabbed his own bag out of his locker, slinging it and Billy’s over his shoulder, before he approached the bench and tried to figure out how to do this. “Can you stand up?”

Billy held a hand out and Steve took it, bracing his feet against the weight as Billy used him to leverage himself up. He swayed for a moment and shook his head like he was trying to wake up but he stayed standing and Steve felt a touch of relief.

“Okay. We’re gonna go out the back way, to the parking lot, and you’re gonna sleep this off in the car until it’s time to go. You ready?”

Billy took a step, and then another, and Steve walked backwards towards the broken fire door that everyone used to go smoke between classes. Billy was still holding his hand and Steve tried not to focus on that, tried not to tighten his grip every time he felt Billy stumble or heard a pained hitch in his breathing. They got to the parking lot and then Steve made his second mistake.

Because he’d been in the backseat of Billy’s car, had his legs crammed into the space between the front and back seats, knees knocking into the dash because the Camaro wasn’t designed for ample leg room. So he knew Billy’s car wasn’t really an option for a guy with massive bruises on his chest and at least one cracked rib, it just wasn’t. Which leaves only one other option. Steve’s Beamer.

They made it across the lot easily enough, but once they got to the car Billy stopped short, pouting frown already forming and Steve was cold and tired and not interested in fighting about this so he tried to cut it off at the pass.

“You can’t sleep in your car with ribs like that. I’ve got study hall last period, I’ll ditch it and come get you out of here before anybody sees you, okay? Your reputation will remain intact.” Billy just blinked at him again. He’d started to look a little more with it but he was clearly still riding the wave of the medication and his usual sneer was gone, leaving a wary confusion behind.

“Why are you helping me?”

And that’s the sixty-four million dollar question, wasn’t it? Why was Steve helping him? Why didn’t he just wrap his ribs and get out or better yet, leave him on the court for the coach to deal with? He didn’t owe Billy anything. In fact, he was pretty sure Billy owed him for taking a basic fistfight and turning it into a beatdown that could have killed him. Steve opened his mouth but nothing came out. He couldn’t answer the question, not right now. Billy took a step back, suspicion starting to creep into his eyes and Steve was overcome with wanting to correct it, blurting out pieces of his train of thought without really deciding to.

“Because you owe me one.” Billy stopped, head cocked to the side, something in the small movement that said he thought it made sense. 

“You owe me for the fight, right?” Steve continued, reaching behind him to open the car door, tossing Billy’s bag onto the floor as he scrambled to get an explanation together that Billy would buy. 

“So now you owe me two. One for the fight and one for this. Can’t collect if you die or whatever.” Steve shrugged casually, as if he went around doing this all the time, as if Billy owing him one was the only reason Steve hadn’t let him kill himself in the goddamn locker room. And the saddest thing was, Billy relaxed at that, like it made complete and utter sense to him, and carefully climbed into the car. Steve felt like he was the one who’d taken a hit to the chest.

“Sleep, okay? Wait, hang on.” Steve went around to the the trunk and pulled out a sleeping bag from far too many years ago. “Here, cover up with this and don’t move until I come get you. And no more pills. Actually,” Steve rummaged in Billy’s bag and pulled out the bottle, slipping it into his pocket. Billy whined, actually whined, and made an aborted grab for it. “Yeah, thought so.”

Steve took a good look at Billy, curled on his uninjured side on the backseat, sleeping bag haphazardly draped over him, legs awkwardly bent into the footwell and eyes already closing. He looked like an overgrown puppy, not like someone who terrorized half of the school on a regular basis. Steve felt that phantom pain in his chest again.

“Tell you what. You stay here, get some sleep, don’t fuck with my car...and when school’s out, we'll talk about another pill, deal?”

Billy nodded and Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“Use your words, Billy. I need a yes.”

“Deal.”

Steve nodded and closed the door, locked it, and headed back towards the school. 

His fucking life, man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning on a regular posting schedule of once a week but everyone's been so lovely and I have the first four chapters already written so you're going to get them whenever I can't hold back any longer. I love you all.


	3. But let me say, I don't mean harm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve tries to get a handle on things. Billy wakes up. A deal is struck.

Steve didn’t go to any of the rest of his classes that day. Granted, there was only English and Chemistry before last period, but he cut them both and instead spent the next three hours in the library, holed up in a study room, reading whatever he could find on first aid, medicine, and abuse.

It wasn’t pleasant reading.

For starters, there was only one book on abuse in the entire library and that was on sexual abuse. Steve had read the first three paragraphs and felt a strong desire to introduce some people to his bat. The next two were basic first aid manuals for boy scouts. Steve actually remembered having one somewhere at home from a brief stint in a troop as a kid. He made a mental note to find that. After seeing that he’d done the best he could for Billy’s ribs by stabilizing them and getting him to lie down, he tossed that aside too. There was a giant field guide of prescription drugs and seriously? What the hell was this doing in a high school library? But Steve flipped through it until he found the name on the pill bottle in his pocket and carefully copied over the dosage and side effects onto a piece of paper.

_Do not exceed 600 milligrams in twenty-four hours unless otherwise prescribed by a physician. Individuals who ingest more than 600 milligrams in a twenty-four hour period should seek medical attention immediately. Side effects may include drowsiness, lack of focus, hyperfocus, vomiting, hallucinations, thinning of the blood, increased heart rate, dizziness, swelling of the hands and feet, irregular heartbeat, loss of consciousness, heart attack, stroke, and/or death._

“Who the fuck would even take this stuff?” Steve mumbled and shoved the book across the table with trembling hands. The dose on the bottle was 150 mg. Billy had taken three before 2 o’clock. If Steve hadn’t been there, hadn’t stopped him from taking another two, he’d have been dead before the last bell rang. Hell, he might have fucking died on the court anyways, any one of these side effects could have hit him at anytime. Steve pushed away from the table and began to pace in the small room. 

“Fucking Hargrove. Forget the kids, he’s the one that needs a babysitter.” 

After he calmed down a bit, he glanced at the rest of the titles disinterestedly. A book on herbal medicine. A biography of a doctor who cured some disease. A book on mental trauma. Nothing that looked like it would tell Steve how to deal with the asshole in his backseat. 

He sat down and put his head in his hands for a minute, thinking hard, as he tried to get a plan together about Billy, his dad, and how to deal with them both without getting his face bashed in again.

The obvious answer was to call Hopper. Except, while Steve might not have actually known Billy very well, he wasn’t completely stupid and he knew that getting the police involved wouldn’t be appreciated. Billy would either deny it flat out and then Steve would be stuck trying to convince the cops that he wasn’t lying or Billy would go along with it, talk to Hopper, the courts, whatever, but nothing would really happen. Steve’s dad was a lawyer. Sure, it was corporate law, mostly dealing with mergers and buyouts and union stuff, but Steve knew enough about the law to be pretty sure that Mr. Hargrove, whoever the bastard might have been, would probably be able to weasel his way out of anything more than a fine and Steve felt certain, in the pit of his stomach, that Billy would pay the price for it. Which left him with two options.

One: get Billy out of his car and pretend this never happened while hoping he didn’t come to school one day to hear that Billy Hargrove wound up dead.

Two: try and help Billy himself.

It wasn’t much of a choice.

The bell rang and Steve jolted in surprise. He glanced at the clock and swore, quickly gathering up the books and heading to the door. He paused at the return cart then made a split-second decision and shoved the first aid book into his bag before rushing towards the parking lot by way of the cafeteria. 

When Steve got to the car, he was halfway surprised to see Billy still curled up asleep in the back, sleeping bag thrown over his head to block out the light. He carefully unlocked the car and slid into the driver’s seat, twisting to deposit a handful of snacks from the vending machine onto the passenger side before he relaxed into the leather and rolled his shoulders before turning around to face the back seat. Showtime.

“Billy. Hey. Billy, wake up. It’s almost three, man.” 

Billy came to like a switch was flipped, bolting up in the seat and instantly aware before he groaned and brought a hand up to his chest. Steve winced in sympathy.

“Yeah, bet that still hurts like a bitch, huh?”

Hargrove’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing at him.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Harrington?”

“Uh, it’s my car, dumbass. I’m sitting in it.” Steve saw Billy glance around at their surroundings and then he saw the moment Billy remembered how he got here, eyes darting down to glance at his shirt, the wrapping around his ribs underneath. Billy went deadly still.

“What.”

Steve took another breath and tried not to give anything away. This was the risky part, the part that might end with his head getting slammed into his steering wheel.

“So. Here’s the deal. You’ve got a secret shitstain of a dad.” Billy jerked like he’d been slapped and Steve could see the anger rolling through him, the way he was gearing up for a fight, so he plowed on. “Honestly, that’s not my problem. I mean yeah, it’s bullshit,” Steve flinched slightly at the word and kept going. He was gonna stick with what had worked earlier and change it when he needed to. Winging it worked pretty good for him so far. “But that’s your business. However, you still owe me. One for the fight, and one for me not letting you die in the locker room.”

“The fuck are you talking about, Harrington?” Billy growled and the hand on his chest flexed, fingers tightening and releasing. Steve silently thanked whoever was listening for the injuries that were preventing Billy from fighting his way out of the car. Steve pulled the pill bottle out and shook it so Billy could hear the rattle.

“You told me you took three of these this morning. You almost took two more after Tommy suckerpunched you. That’s 150 milligrams over the maximum dose. You’d have stroked out on the tile, you-” Steve broke off. This was not how this needed to go. 

“Point is, you owe me twice. So here’s the deal. I keep these and you tell me when you need them. That way I can make sure you don’t wind up dead and I have to live with it.”

“Or,” Billy bared his teeth in a fierce grin. “I could take the pills, kick your ass, and sleep easy knowing I don’t give a fuck.” 

Steve nodded reasonably. He’d expected that. 

“Yeah, that’s totally an option. Except I don’t think your dad would take kindly to the police showing up, saying they got an anonymous tip that he beats his son.”

Billy growled, honest to God growled, and leaned over the seat to get up close to Steve’s face, eyes searching intently for something before a hint of confusion crept up. 

“Why are you doing this? What’s in it for you?”

Steve exhaled. That was the hard part over. He was pretty sure he could handle the rest of this, and if not, he’d lean on the horn until somebody came out to investigate.

“I told you. You owe me, I wanna make sure I can collect. Here.” Steve snagged a candy bar off the seat and shoved it at Billy. He took it, more confusion coming through as the anger cooled off. Steve felt a wave of giddy relief as he watched the blonde take a bite. _See? Don’t bash my face in and I’ll give you candy._

“1684 Loch Nora. That’s my address. If-if you get hurt like this again, you come to me. I mean it.” Steve bent down a little to catch Billy’s eyes, trying to convey how serious he was being. “I catch you in school or around town looking like this, I’ll go straight to Hopper.”

“The fuck’s a Hopper?” Billy asked around a mouthful of nougat. Steve rolled his eyes at the lack of manners.

“Chief of Police Jim Hopper. And he’ll believe me. We’ve got history so...so that’s the deal, okay?”

Billy regarded him for a moment before he nodded and Steve sighed.

“You have to say okay, Billy, I have to hear you promise or I swear to God, I’m calling Hop right-”

“Okay, okay! Jesus.” Billy threw the empty chocolate wrapper at Steve’s face and huffed.

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, if I get messed up again, I’ll let you play fucking nursemaid, all right?” Billy sat back carefully and sneered. “Now you wanna quit riding my damn ass about it?”

“Gladly.” Steve tossed him another candy bar and opened a can of soda before belatedly adding. “Good. Thank you. Now eat something and hurry up. We’ve got fifteen minutes until the bell.”

Steve turned back towards the front and hoped Billy couldn’t see the way his hands shook. He was flying blind here, using four hours of knowledge to try and confront something he suspected had been going on for years, if the casual way Billy mentioned it was any indication. He glanced at Billy in the rearview mirror, noted the way he held himself stiffly, how he kept his left arm by his side to protect the injury. Now that he knew what he was looking for, Steve could see the fact that he was hurting as clear as day. 

What was worse, he could also vaguely recall Billy acting this way before, meaning he’d shown up to school like this before. How they hell had nobody noticed? And why didn’t Billy say anything? 

They ate in silence and Steve tucked those questions into the back of his mind. He couldn’t answer them right now and Billy certainly wouldn’t, not now that the painkillers were wearing off and that layer of anger and ‘screw you’ attitude were back in place. Steve would figure out a better game plan later. With any luck, Billy wouldn’t need his help for awhile and would give him time to figure out what the hell he was doing.

That was Steve’s third mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter before I go to work because editing this is more fun than doing my schoolwork. 
> 
> Also, I'm compelled by over a decade working in libraries to point out that Steve does a Bad Thing by taking that library book. Don't do that. Check it out and make photocopies, Steve, what the fuck is wrong with you, libraries are underfunded enough.


	4. Maybe times are gonna change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve realizes he should have been more specific. Billy doesn't understand why Steve cares. Steve doesn't really understand either but he's gonna do it anyways.

Two days later, when they passed each in the halls on the way to lunch, Steve realized he should have been more specific when he made their deal as he caught sight of Billy's blood covered jaw as it strode down the hallway. He followed Billy into the boys bathroom, hanging back as a couple of freshman took one look at them and scrambled to leave before he leaned against the wall to watch as the blonde tried to staunch a split lip that was dripping blood all over the sink. He let his eyes scan over Hargrove, looking for any stiffness or sign of other injuries and found nothing but he wasn’t naive enough to think it wasn’t there. If nothing else, Billy’s ribs should still be killing him, and there was a flash of red-hot anger that Billy’s dad saw nothing wrong with hitting his son across the face when he was still on the mend.

“You were supposed to come to me.” Billy caught his eye in the mirror and glared, dismissing him quickly and turning back to the mirror to wipe the bandana from his bag harder across his lip. 

“We had a deal, remember? Or were you too stoned for that?” Steve regretted the words as soon as he said them, as soon as he saw Billy’s face darken as he pulled the rag away and grinned meanly, blood smeared over his mouth like he’d just bitten into something, sank his teeth into someone’s throat.

“Aw, you get your feelings hurt, Harrington?” The smile faded quickly into another glare and Billy turned towards him, leaning back against the sink and resting his hands on the counter, everything about him daring Steve to to push his limits. “I got it covered, pretty boy. So save your babysitter routine for those nerds you’re obsessed with, I’m fine.”

Steve took a few steps forward, until he was inches in front of Billy, and caught his eye again, trying to let his concern and desire to help overpower the anger he was sure was still there. Steve wasn’t angry at Billy; exasperated maybe, and even slightly hurt, but more than that, Steve was worried and he hoped his face showed that, hoped Billy would react with something other than sneers and insults. Some of it must have gotten through because Billy’s glare faded, confusion and wary interest filling his eyes and Steve had a crazy thought that he might actually be able to pull this off. When he spoke, he kept his voice low but firm, like how he spoke to the kids sometimes, when he really needed them to listen. Yelling rarely worked with them and he already knew it wouldn’t work with Billy. 

“You promised. That means something around here.” He couldn’t explain anymore than that, couldn’t tell secrets that weren’t his but he hoped Billy felt the weight of his words. “It means something to me.”

Billy scoffed, arms crossing over his chest to put a barrier between them, but Steve thought he could detect a hint of something else in his expression even as he tried once again to get Steve riled up.

“Did I miss us becoming best fucking friends or something? Just because I owe you one doesn’t mean I’m going to let you boss me around like I’m your fucking bitch, hotshot. Nobody-”

“Nobody tells you what to do, I remember.” Steve ran his hand through his hair before letting it fall to his hip as he thought about what he could and couldn’t deal with seeing Billy walking around with, what kind of injuries Billy might be too used to patching up on his own. And a small part of him braced itself for a fight because unlike the deal they made in his car, this wasn’t going to be as easy to get Billy to accept. For one thing, he was sober.

“Look. I’m not gonna tell anybody. I don’t care about being king of the school or whatever, you want it, it’s yours.” Steve took another step, the toes of his sneakers just shy of the tips of Billy’s boots. “I just want to help you.” He took a deep breath, trying to find a balance they could both live with.

“Blood, broken bones, bruises bigger than your fist, or beatings that happen less than 72 hours apart.” Steve held his gaze. “You have any of these, you come to me. Any time, day, night, whatever. If it’s at school, you can leave me a note. If I’m not home, you can wait for me. Promise me, Billy. Please.” 

Billy stared at him, and there were too many things swirling in his eyes for Steve to catch them all. There was a flash of anger, something close to hatred, before being edged out by fear and what might have been amazement but Steve wasn’t sure. He seemed to settle on unhappy acceptance and a hint of something else, something Steve couldn’t identify but that had also been in Billy’s face when he asked Steve if taking so many pills had been wrong. Billy swallowed thickly and his gaze shifted to stare over Steve’s shoulder, but he nodded sharply.

“I...I promise.” 

Something uncoiled deep inside Steve, a knot of tension releasing, and he sighed in relief, somewhat surprised at how strongly he felt like he’d just won an important battle. 

“Good. That’s good. Thank you. Now here, let me do that.” He grabbed the bandana from the counter, wetting it under the faucet and wringing it out. He hesitated, tempted to grip Billy’s jaw and tilt his head back so he could see the cut better but he wasn’t sure how the other boy would take the physical contact. He settled for bring the bandana up to hover in the air between them, telegraphing his intent so Billy would know it was coming.

“Tilt your head back a bit, okay?”

Billy wordlessly complied, eyes wide and arms still wrapped around his sides as Steve pressed the cloth to his face to stop the bleeding. He kept his eyes on what he was doing, barely breathing in case it disrupted the moment of truce, but he had to ask.

“How did this happen?”

Billy stiffened a bit, but Steve just waited, let him make the decision as he kept up steady pressure to the wound and a few seconds later, Billy relaxed, tension leaving him just like it had in the locker room. Steve couldn’t stop himself from quickly grabbing his shoulder as he swayed on his feet. Billy just leaned into it, let Steve hold him up a bit, and his voice dropped low.

“Just did. I fucked up somehow and...it was just a slap. Didn’t even hurt much, it’s just bleeding a lot and Mr. Covington would have called the nurse if I showed up to class with it.”

Steve swallowed down his anger again and gently peeled the bandana away from Billy’s lip to inspect it. The cut wasn’t really that deep, a slash in the corner like something had caught the edge of Billy’s mouth and ripped it. A ring, maybe. But the bleeding had stopped and there was no telltale sign of bruising around it so Billy was probably telling the truth. Steve let the hand on Billy’s shoulder move towards the side of his neck. He didn’t squeeze, just let it rest there for a moment, Billy’s pulse strong and steady under his fingertips. 

“Remember what I said. What you promised. You’ll find me if it gets worse?” Billy nodded and Steve could feel his muscles moving under his palm, felt his throat work as he swallowed, and then he did squeeze, just a bit, just to get him to look in his eyes and pay attention.

“Come on, you know how this goes. Gotta hear you say it or it doesn’t count.” Steve had started whispering at some point, he didn’t know when, and they had moved so close together that Steve could feel Billy’s jacket brush his arm when the other boy breathed. Billy's eyes focused on him and they caught Steve off guard. He’d been thinking of them as blue but there was green in there as well, just a bit when the light hit them just right. They looked like the lake in summer, fathomless and deep. 

“I’ll find you if it gets worse. Or-if it happens again.”

Steve smiled, just a bit, and took his hand off, figuring Billy wouldn’t want too much contact, but Billy’s body swayed again, a tiny movement chasing the touch, and Steve hesitated. He almost wanted to ruffle Billy’s curls like he did Dustin’s but more like...he wanted to run his fingers through Billy’s hair. Wanted to see him tilt his head into the touch like a cat, wanted to watch Billy’s eyes close in satisfaction and pleasure like he somehow knew they would. It was unexpected, confusing, and Steve took a step back on instinct, meeting Billy’s uncertain gaze with his own. Another thing to deal with later.

“Better get to class.” He settled for reaching out to tap his fingertips against Billy’s hand but he knew it satisfied neither of them. “And maybe eat carefully at lunch, huh? Don’t wanna ruin all my hard work.”

Billy laughed through his nose, a quick chuckle, and rocked back on his heels, layers closing back around him like he was zipping up a coat.

“I’ll try not to mess it up.”

He said it casually, offhand, but there was something in his tone that let Steve know he meet more than re-opening his split lip. Steve walked backwards to the door and paused before he ducked back into the hallways to give Billy another smile. 

“I won’t let you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting schedule? We don't need no stinking posting schedule. I do what I want. Also this story is getting very long. Steve wants to think about everything so much. No wonder that boy has anxiety.
> 
> I'm [@dobetterbillyhargrove](https://dobetterbillyhargrove.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. Come say hey, drop me a prompt, whatever.


	5. Stand in line, wasting all of your time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve tries to figure out if he's doing the right thing. His dad is no help at all really, but Steve gets there in the end and realizes he might just get something out of this as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey babes, please note that the tags have been updated to address some of the later chapters. Yes, the guys finally get together soon! Also the chapters are getting longer, not that I think I'll get complaints. Enjoy!

Steve was on pins and needles for the next week and a half. He needed a plan, needed to know how to deal with this whole Billy situation before the next time so that he could stop winging it and start actually contributing to the cause.

The Save Billy Cause. Because that was a thing now.

This drive to be prepared was what led him to be roaming the aisles of the drugstore on a Thursday night, checking off items from a careful list of supplies based on the now very well-thumbed copy of ‘A Scout’s Guide to Basic First Aid’. 

He passed a rack of backpacks and tossed one in, knowing he needed something to keep this shit in and away from the eyes of his parents. He turned a corner and started searching for gauze pads, grabbed three boxes when he found them, then headed to the checkout and prayed that Mrs. Byers wasn’t working tonight. He didn’t feel like explaining why he suddenly needed $80 worth of medical supplies.

Thankfully, Donald didn’t seem to care what he was buying or why.

Steve pulled into his driveway and hauled everything into his bedroom, dumping it on the floor in front of the dresser and just staring at it for a moment. This was...this was a lot more than just making sure Billy didn’t stroke out in gym. There was everything from bandaids to needles and thread on the floor, iodine and alcohol, wrap bandages and plaster cast, a wrist brace, burn ointment, gloves, lotion, syringes. Anything and everything he could get his hands on in case Billy needed it.

“What the hell am I doing?” Steve sank onto the bed and buried his face in his hands, letting out a strangled scream of frustration. He rubbed his hands back and forth through his hair, only for a sudden knock on the door to send him right back to his feet. 

“Steven?” His father’s voice came through and Steve scrambled to shove all the supplies into the backpack and hide it in his closet.

“Yeah, uh, come in!” He realized he was still wearing his jacket and quickly wrestled it off, grabbed a notebook off his desk and threw himself across the bed, trying to look casual. His father opened the door and leaned in, curiously glancing at him before shaking his head.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to be in tonight. Margaret and I have plans at the country club, drinks and dinner with the Hills. Would you care to join us?”

Steve exhaled and slowly sat up. They always did this nowadays. Either spoke to him like he was still a little kid or treated him like a business associate and invited him to social functions like he was a forty year old banker renting an upstairs room. It was as if becoming a teenager meant he was a stranger to them, someone they couldn’t understand or had never met before instead of the person they’d lived with, raised, for his entire life.

“No, I-I’ve got some work to do, but thanks.” He nodded and turned to go and Steve felt himself panic a little. “Hey, Dad?”

“Yes?” He leaned back in, adjusting his glasses and already looking like he was miles away. Steve swallowed and fidgeted with the book in his hands.

“How-What do you do if you know somebody needs help but,” He trailed off. His father looked at him in surprise and carefully stepped inside, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to him.

“Steven? You look upset, has something happened?” He shook his head and forced the words out, trying to make sense of what he was asking. 

“No, no, I just. If you knew somebody needed help with something but couldn’t go to like, an authority about it, what would you do?” His father frowned.

“You mean like a school assignment?” Steve shook his head but then nodded and tried to explain without revealing too much.

“Yeah, like. So there’s this guy in one of my classes and he’s been having trouble but he-he doesn’t want to tell anybody because he-” He caught sight of his sneakers tossed under his desk. “He’s afraid that he’ll get kicked off the team, right? And I noticed that he needed help and I want to help but I guess...I guess I don’t really know how to? And he doesn’t really want me to, I don’t think except...except he let me help him, a couple of times, and said he’d let me help him some more. Although I kind of threatened to tell the Chi-Coach. So he kind of has to let me help him?”

“Oh.” His dad studied him for a minute and sat back, arms crossed as he considered the situation. “Well, without knowing more, I’d say that you’re doing the best you can. Although you should really tell your teacher if it’s that extreme.” He paused and looked over him again. “If you really want to help though, I suppose, from a strategic standpoint, the first thing to do is to negotiate the terms of the deal. Make sure you put on paper the reasons behind such a partnership. You don’t want this boy to take advantage of your knowledge without getting an equal return on your investment. Second, you want to make certain that he puts in an equal amount of work. You know son,” He took off his glasses and cleaned them on the sleeve of his sweater, voice taking on what Steve thought of as his ‘business’ tone. 

“You can’t help people who don’t want to help themselves. They have to be equally invested in the partnership in order to ensure they hold up their end of the bargain. I don’t want to hear that you’ve been doing this boy’s homework, especially with the way your grades have been going.” Steve swallowed down his first response and tried to look contrite. His father rested a hand on his shoulder, taking Steve by surprise, and a hesitant look came over his face.

“I know…” He coughed. “I know your mom and I have been gone a lot this year, and that you’ve being having a rough time. That friend of yours going missing and all. But you know you can talk to me about anything that’s bothering you, don’t you?”

 _Barb._ Steve wanted to say, _Her name was Barb. Also I fight monsters sometimes and so now I sleep with the light on in case they come through the ceiling._ His dad just looked at him, oblivious. Steve smiled and slid his shoulder out from under his father’s hand. 

“Yeah, of course Dad.” His father stood and walked to the hall, hands in his pockets, stopping just before he left and turning to face Steve again. 

“This boy...it isn’t Mark Hill’s son, is it? I’d hate to stumble into anything at dinner tonight and you know I’m considering donating to his campaign for City Council this spring.” Steve felt his smile grow brittle, like one wrong move would have it shattering off his face. 

“Oh no way, Dad.” He ground his teeth together. “Besides, Tommy got suspended for the rest of the year. Broke some kid’s ribs in practice.”

“What a shame.” His father gave a slow shake of the head but did nothing to hide his pleased smile at this piece of news. “Well that will certainly impact his run for the seat. Say,” He looked suddenly inspired. “Call my office and give Ann Marie the address of this boy who got hurt, I’ll have her send him a card. It’s rough to take a shot like that.”

Steve’s grip on the notebook tightened so hard the binding dug into his palms. 

“Yeah, sure thing.” His father nodded and left, pulling the door shut behind him and missing the middle finger Steve threw up as soon as his back was turned. 

Steve stood, tossing the book onto the bed, suddenly filled with anger. Ann Marie was his father’s secretary, the woman he’d been having an affair with for six weeks, and he wanted Steve to call her and give her the gossipy details on Tommy’s lack of basic human decency so, what? He could lord it over Tommy’s dad once he made it onto the City Council and get backdoor business deals approved? Steve slammed his fist into the mattress, bowing his head as the anger faded just as quickly as it came, leaving behind a weary ache in his stomach.

“Her name was Barb and we buried her three months ago because Nancy wouldn’t give up.” He stood there a minute before raising his head, an idea taking hazy form in his mind. His dad might not have the slightest clue what was going on in Steve’s life, might not have any frame of reference for the things Steve was dealing with, but maybe he wasn’t completely useless. Steve picked up his notebook and dug a pen out of his nightstand, sitting with his back against the headboard, legs crossed under him. Distantly he heard the front door close, and he began to write, thinking out loud as he went.

“Okay. Why am I doing this? What am I getting out of it? Why do I care about Billy Hargrove?” He looked at the questions he’d written down. 

He thought about Barb and the way she had stuck around after the party in case Nancy had needed her. Barb would have been fine if she had just gone home that night, would have been safe asleep in her bed, would have never had encountered the Demogorgon. And he thought about how Nancy refused to let her death go unnoticed, refused to give up on the idea that she could do something, if not for Barb then for her parents.

He thought about the kids, about how they had charged straight into the Upside Down for Will. Because a member of their Party was in danger. Mrs. Byers and Jonathan, doing anything and everything to reach Will, to save him. Even Hopper and Jane, going into that place to close the gate for not only Will, but everyone in town. About Bob, who he’d heard Mrs. Byers crying over that night. 

He wanted to be a friend like that. He wanted to be a person like that. Not like his dad, always looking for the way something would benefit himself, always acting on his own desires and wants. Or like his mom, so invested in the life she wanted to live she let herself be taken advantage of, the affairs a secret everyone knew, just so she could live in a big house and go to dinner at the country club, arranging her family like furniture in her decorating business. 

No, Steve wanted to be somebody who stepped up. Who cared about people, whether he knew them or not. He wanted to be someone that people expected to be there, right in the thick of it. Damn it, the next time shit hit the fan and he showed up with a bat and a flashlight, he wanted everyone to not say “Steve?!” like it was amazing he was even there.

He wanted to help. 

And he wanted to help Billy. There was more going on with Hargrove than just him being a jerk. Hell, Steve had been a jerk. Sometimes it was just easier, sure. But sometimes something happened and you had a chance to be something more. Steve had a feeling something had happened to Billy, whether it was that night at the Byers or his dad or something else. Steve was certain that Billy was ready to stop being a jerk and start being something more, something closer to a person that stepped up. He just...didn’t know how. 

And maybe Steve didn’t either, not really, not yet, but while Steve couldn’t kill monsters with his brain or whatever, he was a pretty damn good babysitter. That had to count for something. 

Mind made up, Steve let out a deep breath. He was going try and help Billy and maybe help himself in the process.


	6. Don't just hide in the silence behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy shows up at Steve's, pushes at the limits of the rules, and gets some answers for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to thank everyone for reading so far! I'm going to FL for a week so no updates for a while which is why you're getting two chapters now. Enjoy!

It was Friday night before Steve had to put his plan into action. His parents were out, a weekend trip to the mountains for his mother’s birthday, so Steve had ordered a pizza and was attempting to be a normal teenager for a while. He’d been watching TV, some show about lizards invading the Earth that Steve was in turns laughing at and greatly disturbed by, although he didn’t want to admit it to himself, even when he got the bat out of his closet and placed it by the couch within arms reach.

Just as the news came on and he was about to clean up and try and do some homework, he heard a faint sound from outside and he froze. It sounded like something moving in the bushes that ran from the back gate to the front steps, prickly evergreen things that his father always complained about having to have trimmed in the spring. Steve grabbed the bat and shut the tv off, heart pounding as he slowly headed to the front door to look outside. 

Halfway there, the sound came again. It seemed to be moving along the side of the house, parallel to Steve’s steps. He raised the bat, eyes wide on the opposite wall as he continued forward. His lighter was in his pocket, he never went anywhere without it nowadays but for a split second, he wished for a bear trap, for Nancy and Jonathan. Hell, even the kids would be of use. But he could do this. He’d done this before. All he had to do was make sure it was a demodog, make sure the front door was locked, and then get to the kitchen and call Hopper. 

There was a particularly loud rustle and Steve froze, heart beating hard as he held his breath, trying to think.

The gate was closed. If it was here then it was on this side of the gate and it had to play by the same rules as he did. No coming through the walls or appearing from thin air. Beside, the lights were stable, a steady glow throughout the house. It had to be a lone demodog, probably got trapped on their side and was just now finding its way out of the woods. It might even have been injured. Steve could do this. 

He got within reach of the door and took a deep breath, psyching himself up to pull back the curtain on the side window and hopefully see the demodog before it saw him. He reached out a hand, weight balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to make a run for the back door if he had to when suddenly something hit the side of the house with a thump.

Steve jumped slightly, bat swinging down on instinct right where a demodog’s head would have been if it had come through the door. But there was nothing there. Two more thumps, in rapid succession, were followed by a muffled voice had Steve going weak with relief.

“Harrington, you in there?” 

Billy. Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair, unlocking the door and swinging it open. Billy leaned against the side of the house, body turned towards the driveway, fist half raised to pound on the wall again. 

“You know, the little button on the wall is called a doorbell. It’s like knocking but for polite people.”

Billy snorted and didn’t answer, letting his fist fall to hit the wall one last time out of spite. Steve braced the bat on his shoulder and leaned against the door jam.

“My folks might have been home, you know. They wouldn’t have appreciated that.”

“I checked first. Yours is the only car in the drive, and you were the only one in the house. You should close your curtains by the way. Plenty of creeps in the world.” Billy’s voice was rough, like he’d been drinking or screaming. He stayed facing away from the house and an uneasy feeling returned to Steve’s gut. 

“So. What do I owe the pleasure of your company to tonight?” He hoped wildly for Billy to be here for anything but another run in with his dad. It’d been not quite three weeks since the locker room and Billy’s ribs would barely be to the point of letting him breath without sending pain through his chest. Surely Mr. Hargrove wouldn’t have done anything too drastic, right?

“Blood.” Billy slowly turned to face Steve although he kept his eyes averted as he revealed a swollen black eye and a trickle of dried blood coming from his mouth where he’d split his lip again. Steve sucked in a breath, hopes dashed. Billy hadn’t had these at school that he’d seen, or at least he didn’t hear anyone talking about it. And Billy hadn’t left him a note. So that meant it’d had to have happened after. But the blood was dried and the black eye was almost swollen shut so he hadn’t come straight here either. What had caused it? Max hadn’t gone with the others to the movies that afternoon, she’d been doing something with her mom, he thought Lucas had said. What had Billy done that deserved what looked like a stiff right hook to the face? 

Steve wordlessly stepped back and Billy slunk inside, peering curiously around the entryway and avoiding Steve’s gaze.

“Those look old.” Billy scowled and his back stiffened. As much as Steve was glad that he’d come here, Billy clearly didn’t look happy about it, every inch of him saying he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t say I had to find you right away so.” He picked up a crystal ashtray off a side table and carelessly flipped it in the air. “‘Sides, I had to wait for Neil to go to bed.” Steve caught the ashtray and placed it back down. Neil must be his dad. Steve decided he hated that name as Billy continued. “You looked like you were have a great time in front of the tube so hey, you want me to leave, I’ll leave. It’s your stupid rules, not mine.”

Steve frowned and shifted uncomfortably. Billy seemed like he was on the verge of something tonight, an air of potential malice hanging off him as comfortably as his leather jacket. 

“We both agreed. You wanna change it, we can talk. And I didn’t mean to like, criticize or anything. I just...you have to clean these things or they’ll get infected...” Steve trailed off as he watched Billy circle the entry, avoiding his gaze. 

“Yeah, okay.” Steve sighed again. “He punch you straight on or something else?” He saw the side of Billy’s jaw clench and Steve hurried to explain. “Just so I know what I’m patching up. If you hit your head or anything.”

“No.” Billy bit out but his guard dropped a fraction and Steve took a step closer. “Punch just landed wrong. I didn’t take it right. Happens.” He finally looked at Steve and his eyes zeroed in on the bat over Steve’s shoulder, guard immediately raising right back up as he backed against the wall. 

“What the fu-why do you have that thing?”

Steve blinked in confusion before he realized and sheepishly swung the bat down off his shoulder. He dropped it in the umbrella stand in the corner, trying not to chip the finish. 

“Oh, uh, my folks aren’t home and uh, it’s for protection.” He chuckled weakly. “Nothing scares off creeps like a bat full of nails.” Billy eyed it warily but didn’t shy away as Steve came closer, hands raised and open in front of him.

“Can I take a look at your face?” Billy nodded and Steve gently cupped his cheek, tilting his head into the light and looking at the purple bruise around his left eye. It wasn’t terrible. Jonathan had given him a worse one after the graffiti incident. But it would still hurt like a mother in the morning unless he iced it. The lip was already crusted over and had probably opened more from the pull of muscles as Billy tried to take the hit than any actual impact. Billy endured his examination silently, brow furrowed as he searched Steve’s face for something.

“He doesn’t touch Max.” Billy suddenly declared and Steve paused, caught off guard. 

“Uh, good, I guess. I mean, yeah, that’s good.” Billy frowned harder and shrugged off Steve’s hands, voice cold as he bristled. 

“Isn’t that your endgame, looking after those kids? You know that’s creepy right? That they’re your only friends?”

Steve took a step back, bewildered and getting slightly angry at Billy’s abrupt attack.

“What the hell are you even talking about?” 

“Why are you doing this?” Billy suddenly fisted his hands in Steve’s shirt and shoved him back against the door. “What’s your fucking angle? You feel fucking sorry for me? Is that it? You feel sad just because my old man smacks me around a little? Well, guess what, I don’t need or want you goddamn pity, Harrington!”

“Jesus H. Christ, would you back off?!” Steve shoved him, just enough so that he could breathe without inhaling the smell of cigarettes and sweat, and took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, trying to find the sense of calm he’d had in the bathroom at school. “I’m not doing this because of your dad, okay? Although that’s fucked up and we’re gonna talk about that some time, so get over it. And I’m not doing this for Max either.” Billy shook him in his grip but there wasn’t any heat to it, like he was doing it out of habit.

“What the hell are you helping me for then? Why do you care?” Steve bit his lip for a moment before he decided to just spill his guts. Worst that could happen was he’d get his face bashed in again. At least he had a killer first aid kit this time.

“Because it’s not okay! And you-“ He took a deep breath, trying to push his own irritation aside. “You don’t deserve that. I mean, yeah okay, you’re a massive jerk but that doesn’t give him the right to hurt you, for fuck’s sake! And..and I’ve been a jerk before, and-I can’t believe I'm saying this-look, I believe you can become a better person, okay?” Billy stared at him for a moment, stunned, before he burst out laughing so hard he went weak at the knees, collapsing against both Steve and the door, hands barely keeping their grip on Steve’s shirt.

“Did-whoo-did you just after-school special me? Are you frigging serious right now?” Billy erupted into peals of laughter again, resting his forehead against Steve’s collarbone, shoulders shaking with mirth. Steve could feel his face growing hot and and he weakly punched Billy’s arm.

“Yeah, asshole, and I meant it so stop fucking laughing or I’m getting the bat!”

Billy finally stood, letting out an occasional chuckle, tears glimmering in his eyes, and Steve belatedly realized that Billy’s hands were still on him, resting flat against his chest, warm through the fabric of his shirt. It sent tendrils of heat curling through Steve’s body like...like electricity. 

“We should,” He coughed, running a hand through his hair as he stepped sideways, out from between Billy and the door. “I should get some ice on that and uh, there’s pizza if, if you’re hungry.” He headed towards the kitchen.

“Yeah.” Billy said, his voice filled with an odd tone as he followed behind him. “Starved.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The TV show Steve watching is V, which aired on NBC in 1984-85, on Fridays nights at 9pm in the winter. I know you guys probably don’t care but the difference between research and losing twenty minutes to Wikipedia is citing the source somewhere so here you go. Also I'm imagining the bushes outside Steve’s house are holly, which I can attest from personal experience, are prickly as hell.


	7. What you've really been trying to say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy reveals some that he's been doing some thinking of his own, and Steve makes a promise.

They wound up taking the pizza outside once Billy caught sight of the pool glowing in the twilight. Or rather, Billy went outside and Steve decided to take the box of pizza and the dish towel full of ice out after him instead of trying to convince him to come back. He found Billy crouched by the pool’s edge, one hand trailing in the water, fingertips moving back and forth.

“If you fall in, I’m gonna laugh.” Steve set the pizza and the ice pack on the table before he threw himself into a chair as Billy snorted and stood up, using his wet fingers to clean the blood from his face before wiping his hand dry on the seat of his jeans.

“I’ve been swimming since before I could walk, amigo, if I wind up in that water, it’ll be because I jumped the fuck in.” He took the seat across from Steve and snagged a slice of pizza, taking a huge bite and ignoring the ice pack until Steve frowned at him. He grabbed it and pressed it harshly to his eye, shooting Steve a look that seemed to say _happy now?_

Steve didn’t reply, just sat there, eyes half-closed against the pool lights, enjoying the oddly comforting sounds of the water lapping against the tile and Billy shifting in his seat as he ate. It was nice to feel the presence of someone else for a change, to sit and enjoy the company, as it were. Steve could almost feel himself drifting off to sleep to the click of Billy’s lighter as he lit a cigarette.

“You remember that night we fought, at that house?” He must have actually fallen asleep for a minute because when Billy finally spoke, it snapped him back to awareness and he was shocked to see the stars overhead, the twilight gone and steam rising off the pool water in the night chill. Billy was on his feet chainsmoking, must have been for a while based on the cigarette butts scattered across the patio. Steve stole the box of pizza he’d abandoned for himself before he answered. 

“Pretty sure I have a scar from that plate you broke over my head so,” Steve took a bite and shrugged before he realized Billy wasn’t looking at him, was staring at the smoldering ashes on the ground as he paced back and forth between the chairs and the water. “Yeah, Billy, I remember. What about it?”

“The kids. Did they...did they tell you what happened after you passed out?” Billy’s voice was odd. It sounded like he was forcing the words out of his mouth through sheer will. Steve sat back up, pizza forgotten, all his attention on the other boy.

“Um, kinda? Dustin said that Max used some of the sedatives on you, uh,” Steve coughed, trying to remember the cover story they’d thought up for the drugs being in the house. “The-the ones for the Byers dog. And then they put me in the car and we drove around until I woke up.”

“Yeah right.” Billy shot him a skeptical look but then quickly resumed pacing. “Did they happen to mention Max almost speared my junk with that bat if I didn’t promise to leave her and her friends alone?”

Steve shook his head, thoughts racing as he tried to figure out where this was going. Was Billy going to demand to know what was going on? Was he going to ask about that night? What would Steve tell him?

“I did that to my dad once.” Steve’s thoughts stopped like someone had thrown the brakes on. Billy lit yet another cigarette and continued, eyes still staring at the crumpled filters on the ground, mind a million miles away. 

“Not the bat and the drugs part, but uh.” He nodded slightly, just a brief bob of his chin. “I was a little younger than Max, maybe eleven and I stood up to him. Told him he wasn’t going to hit me anymore, hit my mom anymore. I had a knife. From the kitchen. Big fucking thing, almost as long as my arm, and I was waving it in his face, saying how I’d kill him if he ever touched us again.”

Steve couldn’t move, could barely breathe, and he wanted to wrap his arms around Billy just as much as he wanted to hear the rest of the story. His voice, when it came, was so soft he almost thought Billy might not have heard it.

“What...What happened?” Billy began pacing faster, rolling his shoulders like he was gearing up for a fight, and Steve slid off the chair onto his feet.

“He just stared at me. And then he laughed. And then he threw me down the stairs.” Steve was across the space between them almost before he finished speaking, physically stopping Billy’s pacing by planting himself in the way, hands hovering over Billy’s shoulders, every inch of him begging for permission to touch. Billy didn’t give it though, just stood there and soldiered on with the story.

“I broke my leg. Cracked my skull. Mom took me to the ER, said it was a bike accident. I was there two days. And when I got out...she was gone.” Billy gave him a bitter smile and a single tear ran down his face. Steve’s hands burned with the need to touch him but Billy hadn’t said he could yet. “When Max...when Max was holding that bat over me. All I could think was, ‘I’m just like him’. Just like him.” He shuddered slightly and finally looked at Steve, grim determination on his face. “I don’t-I don’t wanna be him, Steve, I don’t.” His eyes were darting back and forth across Steve’s face, breaths coming faster as he tried to convince Steve. “I swear I don’t wanna be like him, I just can’t-I don’t know how not to be.” 

“I’ll help you. You’re not him, Billy, you’re not gonna be like him.” He could see Billy still shuddering, his whole body trembling with the force of the emotions he was feeling. “I won’t let you be like him.”

“But I am. I was.” Billy spat the words out, throwing his hands wide to indicate himself and his actions. Once again Steve could see the anger rolling through him but this time it was anger at himself, at what he’d done. “I went after that kid Sinclair. Went after you. Fuck, I could have fucking you! I scare Max all the time, I know I do, and it’s like...it’s like I can’t help it. I’m just so fucking angry all the time, I just hate him so much, I-” He finally leaned forward, finally let his head fall into Steve’s chest and Steve wasted no time in getting his hands on him, one hand naturally burying itself in blonde curls as the other fisted the back of Billy’s jacket.

“It’s okay.” Steve felt helpless for a moment. He pulled Billy tighter to him, hugged him harder, like he was holding the blonde together somehow and he sent a silent prayer to whoever was listening that he didn’t fuck this up. “We’re gonna do this together, yeah?” He nudged Billy gently with his body, tugged at his hair until he could see Billy’s face. “Me and you can do this, like-like a team. We’ll figure it out. Okay? Me and you?”

Billy just looked at him for a moment. His eyes boring into Steve’s until it felt like he could see clear to the bottom of Steve’s soul. Steve didn’t know what he was seeing, couldn’t imagine it was anything worth taking such a huge leap of faith on, but he stood there and let Billy look, tried to show that he would help, that he could help, somehow. Whatever Billy saw, it must have been enough, because he shuddered one last time before he went still.

“Yeah. Yeah, me and you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's so short but the next chapter earns the M rating, I swear. Also I lied, I'm giving you guys three chapters at once because if I have to work all day then immediately get on a plane, I might as well get lovely comments from you darlings in return. Mwah.


	8. Baby, you'd be charming if you'd come undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve finds out another secret, this time about himself. It's Billy's turn to do some caretaking. His version's a little more hands-on than Steve's. Turns out Billy knows a thing or too about life outside the status quo.

Steve relaxed a bit at Billy’s agreement, and they just stood there in an almost embrace for a few minutes. Steve remembered his desire to run his hands through Billy’s hair, felt the urge just as strongly now and this time he acted on it, curling his fingers and softly raking them from the crown of Billy’s head to the nape of his neck. Just as he’d imagined, Billy tilted his head back into the touch, eyelids dropping a little with pleasure and a pleased hum coming from his throat encouraging Steve to do it again, this time adding a little more pressure and letting his nails trail across Billy’s scalp.

“Shit.” Billy’s head pressed back into his hand, eyes closing completely as his hands came up to rest on Steve’s hips. “That’s helping my head more than the ice did.”

Steve gave a breathy laugh and brought his other hand up to use them both to massage Billy’s scalp, thumbs circling over his temples, careful to avoid the edge of his black eye. Billy’s hands squeezed his hips in response and Steve swallowed down the rush of heat that shot through him at that, movements slowing until he was just holding Billy’s face in his hands. He stared, almost shocked at how he’d never noticed the sheer beauty of Billy before. His eyes followed sharp cheekbones down to a square jaw and a lush mouth, fell to the lines of his chest that Billy’s barely buttoned shirt did nothing to cover. 

Billy opened his eyes to ask why he’d stopped and then he paused, taking in Steve’s expression. He must have recognized it, there must have been some sign that Steve’s entire being was focused on Billy’s hands against his body because a light came on in his eyes and he let out a breath in a low rush. 

“Oh.”

Steve tried to pull back, tried to put some distance between them, but Billy tightened his grip, holding him in place.

“Hey, no, it’s cool.” 

Steve shook his head, his heart pounding and his vision going grey at the edges. Suddenly he was sitting, head shoved between his knees, Billy kneeling in front of him as he draped the cold dish towel across the back of his neck. 

“Breathe, Steve. Jesus, I’ve never had somebody faint over the idea of me before, calm down.” Steve sucked in a breath, and then another, trying to look anywhere but at the other boy but Billy filled his vision with tan skin and blond curls so he gave up and brought miserable eyes to rest on a set of amused blue ones.

“So I take it you’ve never thought about guys before, huh?” Billy’s voice was...gentle for lack of a better term, mocking but not mean and a familiar enough refrain between the two of them that it helped Steve find his voice again.

“Not exactly.” Billy nodded and something closed off a little in his body language. Steve scrambled to find a way to open it back up. “But I’ve never...not thought about them?”

Billy tilted his head curiously, his hands resting on Steve’s knees and that was distracting, the way that it would be so easy for him to run his palms up to Steve’s hips again, heels of Billy’s hands digging into the meat of his thighs. Steve forced himself away from those thoughts and the unfamiliar images that threatened to follow.

“I uh, I guess I never thought about if I’d like thinking about them. Like that.” Billy chuckled and his tongue came out to swipe over his bottom lip. 

“Well, since we’re a team and all, I guess I could help you figure that out. If you wanted me to.” Something about the way he said it made Steve’s spine tingle and he hesitated. Billy took his hands off Steve’s knees, let them curl around the back of his calves instead, and he sat back on his heels to give Steve some space.

“I’m not gonna jump your bones, Harrington.” Steve ducked his head to hide his blush. “Unless you ask me to.” Billy continued and Steve’s head shot back up, a touch of panic in his face. Billy squeezed his legs, and continued.

“Just a little thought experiment, okay?” Steve nodded and Billy smirked at him.

“You have to say it or it doesn’t count.” Steve rolled his eyes but paused. He said that to Billy all the time, wanted to make sure he gave him the chance to say no, to choose what Steve did or didn’t do to him, with him. He’d never really thought about it before but he knew that if Billy ever choose not to voice it, if he wasn’t able to make himself state that he wanted Steve to go ahead with what he was offering then Steve would back off, change the subject without making a big deal out of it. Steve had never thought about being on the other end of that but now that he was, he was glad that he gave Billy that choice.

“Okay.” Billy smiled then, a warm thing that almost looked out of place it was so foreign, and he rose up on his knees, hands sliding off Steve’s body to hang at his sides.

“Okay. So what were you thinking about before that freaked you out?”

Steve swallowed and shifted nervously. He wasn’t some blushing virgin but he’d never talked a lot about sex, not even with his girlfriends. He relied more on feelings and instincts in that regard. He did what felt good in the moment and he didn’t analyze it. But he could try.

“Your hands. On my-my hips. The weight of them and uh, I dunno, how they felt, I guess.” Billy nodded and bought his hands up to rest on his own waist, fingers curling around the jut of his hipbones. 

“Yeah that feels good. What else, hmm? You were staring at my chest.” He reached up and slid his open shirt off his shoulders to hang from the waistband of his jeans, exposing his upper body to the rippling light from the pool and Steve’s heated gaze. “What were you thinking about then?”

“Jesus.” Steve swallowed again and couldn’t help letting his eyes track over the smooth skin, mouth watering at the thoughts crashing through his brain. 

“I was thinking-god, I was thinking I wanted to touch you.” He slid forward on the chair, knees widening to allow him to get closer to Billy, whose smile had faded in the dark heat of his own arousal.

“Yeah?” He ran his hands up his chest, briefly cupping his pecs before wrapping around the back of his neck, highlighting the tapering of his waist and making his biceps stand out. “I like being touched. What with?”

“What?” Steve said dumbly, eyes still lingering on the way Billy’s nipples were stiff in the night air. 

“What did you want to touch me with?” Billy was whispering and Steve could feel it like a caress. “Your hands? Your lips? Something else, maybe?”

“My hands.” Steve whispered back and he couldn’t help it, he had to palm his dick where it was hard in his jeans, had to press against the head of it just a bit. Billy saw it and moaned, head tilting back and hips rocking forward a tiny amount as Steve continued, words coming easier now that he could see how much this was affecting them both. 

“And my-my chest. Wanted to press up against you.” Billy moaned again and Steve took it as encouragement. 

“Put my mouth on you and suck. God, you’re gorgeous. I just wanna touch you.” Steve squeezed himself once more before raising his hand and reaching out. “Can I touch you? Please?”

“Hell yes.” Billy moved, grabbing Steve’s hand and pressing it against his sternum, leaning into the feel of it like he couldn’t get enough and it sent a rush of heady desire through Steve. 

“Always. You can-” He broke off as Steve slid forward onto his knees as well, bringing them almost level with each other, inches apart. “You can touch me anywhere, Steve. Anywhere you want.”

It was the use of his name that finally did it, that washed away all of his nerves about what he was doing, who he was doing it with, and Steve surged forward to latch his mouth onto the curve of Billy’s neck where it met his shoulder, the taste of salt and skin flooding his senses.

“Fuuuuck.” Billy groaned low in his ear and Steve whimpered a bit, hands stroking almost frantically over Billy’s skin, running over his abs and his sides, grabbing the firm muscles of his back to haul him closer to Steve. Billy ground against him, his own hands back on Steve’s damn hips like a magnet, thumbs pressed into the cut of his waist. Steve broke away from Billy’s shoulder to gulp in a huge breath, body hitching forward into the warm heat of Billy as he felt his arousal coiling through him tighter and tighter.

“God, please.” Steve didn’t even know what he was asking for but he thought Billy would. He dug his fingers into the skin of his back again. “Please, please.”

Billy sucked in a breath through his teeth, and closed his eyes for a second before he urged Steve to his feet. 

“Okay, yeah-shit, yeah-but not here. Inside, we need to-just to the rug, so I can-” He broke off, the two of them tripping over the patio furniture and their own feet as they scrambled back inside the house, barely crossing the threshold before Billy was pulling them back down to the floor, laying Steve out on the carpet underneath him, Billy’s knees gripping Steve’s hips as he ran his hands under the hem of Steve’s shirt, fingers ghosting along the thin trail of hair that disappeared under the faded denim. 

“Let me-” He cupped Steve through his jeans, wringing a throaty sound out of him as Steve’s hips jerked up into the pressure. “Can I undo these? You can keep ‘em on, fuck, I just wanna touch you, say I can touch you, Steve, please.”

“Yes, yes, do it, come on-fuck, yes.” Steve arched his back, heels digging into the floor, pulling his shirt up under his armpits so he could rub himself against Billy’s body, feel the heat of Billy’s gaze on him. He wanted something, anything, _Billy._ He felt like he was bursting out of his skin, could feel his pulse in every inch of him, pounding like a drum beat.

Billy’s fingers were thick and clumsy as they undid the button and coaxed his zipper down, reaching into the opening of his boxers to wrap around the head of his cock and god, that was good, so good. 

“Yeah, come on, come on, let me-“ Steve thrust into Billy’s grasp as best he could, but he wanted more, wanted it all, anything and everything Billy had to offer. He let out a frustrated noise and Billy bit his lip as he caught Steve’s eyes. 

“Bad?” He started to pull his hand away and Steve’s shot out, grabbing his wrist and keeping that touch right where he needed it, panting as he tried explain what he wanted even as he ground up into the palm of Billy’s hand. 

“No, it’s good, I just-“ He broke off and let his head thump against the floor. Billy gripped him tight, rubbed his thumb over the tip of Steve’s cock, smearing the rush of precum down the side to slick his grip. 

“What do you need, Steve? Tell me.” Billy shifted back to try and get a better angle and Steve groaned again, desperate for the words to get what he wanted. 

“Anything you want. Just say it for me? Please, sweetheart?” Steve slammed his eyes shut against the sight of Billy above him. It was too much, too many things to think about and look at, his brain overwhelming him with possibilities of what they could do, what he could ask for, what Billy could wring out of him if a hand on his dick felt like this. Steve felt like he was flying apart and he blindly reached out, getting his hands on Billy, slipping them into his back pockets and tugging. 

“Wanna feel you, Billy, _please._ ” Billy didn’t make him ask again, dropping his body on top of Steve firmly, weight pressing them together, hot skin against hot skin, anchoring Steve in place and giving him something to hold onto. He knew this part of Billy, knew the feel of him pressed against him from endless basketball games where Billy seemed to exist solely to guard Steve. It was familiar and normal even as the context was completely different. 

Or was it? Had Billy been thinking about this the whole time? Had every bump and shove on the court been some sort of weird version of what he really wanted to do? Steve felt a wave of lust crash over him and he thought he might come just from that alone. And then Billy opened his damned mouth.

“I bet you’d taste so good.”

That was it, game over, Steve lost it and threw his head back as the mere idea of Billy’s lips and tongue and wet heat around his cock flung him over the edge. He barely had enough control to warn Billy with a gasped out moan in the shape of his name as he shook through his release, hands gripping Billy’s ass through his jeans, hips jerking under the weight of the other boy. 

Steve came down slowly, tiny aftershocks zipping through him, and a wave of relaxation sweeping over him. He blinked up at Billy’s easy grin. 

“What?” Billy shook his head and shifted to the side, one leg staying flung over Steve’s as he dug a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it up and blowing the smoke towards the open door before answering. 

“You have a weird idea of a thought experiment, Steve.”

Steve remembered then, the way he’d freaked out before, and the way he’d been just seconds ago, begging and pleading for Billy’s touch, a guy’s touch.

“I’m not gay.” Steve winced as the words came out of his mouth unbidden. _Laying on the floor half-naked with another boy is pretty damn gay, Harrington. _To his shock, Billy just shrugged one shoulder and leaned across Steve to flick the ash from his cigarette back outside.__

__“Neither am I.” Steve shot him a disbelieving look, eyes darting from his open jeans to Billy’s cum smeared hand and then back up to Billy’s amused eyes. Billy chuckled and Steve could feel it, feel Billy’s stomach contract and release with the sound, his muscles moving as he rolled over top of Steve again, weight pressing him back into the carpet, one thigh slipping between Steve’s own, elbows propping him up._ _

__“I like people, Steve. Sometimes they’re boys, sometimes they’re girls, sometimes they don’t feel like they’re either.” He shrugged again and took another pull off his cigarette. “Liking what we did, thinking it felt good, that doesn’t mean you’re gay unless you want it to. Just means you liked it.”_ _

__Steve frowned, opening his mouth to disagree but Billy just put his cigarette to his lips and waited for him to take a drag. Steve swallowed his questions and inhaled, lungs filling with smoke and he tilted his head back to exhale in the direction of the door._ _

__“Besides,” Billy continued casually. “It’s only gay if you kiss me.” There was a challenge in his tone, his eyes, the way his pelvis laid against Steve’s._ _

__Steve thought about it, about the way Billy would taste, would push against him, would make him work for it. He thought about what Billy said, about liking boys and girls and something about neither which didn’t really make sense but then again creatures from another world whose faces opened up and ate cats didn’t really make sense either._ _

__Steve was beginning to realize that the world was a lot bigger and weirder and wilder than he’d been led to believe. And he was surprisingly okay with it, aside from the cat thing._ _

__“Did you?” He asked curiously and Billy raised his eyebrows._ _

__“If I had kissed you, you’d remember it, Harrington. We both would.” Steve felt another wave of heat go through him at the pleasure that implied._ _

__“No, I mean...did you like it? I know you didn’t come but, was it okay?”_ _

__Billy’s eyes traced over Steve’s face and the amused smile faded into something else, something like a mix of wonder and sadness._ _

__“You are something else, Steve. You know that? Something else entirely.”_ _

__He shook his head and flicked the butt of the cigarette out of the doorway before he continued, a flash of spark against the black sky._ _

__“Yeah, I liked it. Don’t you like it when you get a girl off? Makes you feel good, right? Like you can bend the world to your will for a moment, like you’re a king.”_ _

__Steve considered that for a moment before he moved, rolling them over so that he was sprawled over Billy’s chest, hips cradled between muscular thighs, hands on the floor on either side of broad shoulders. Billy looked surprised for a moment, a flash of wariness rising before his head tilted slightly to the side as he smirked up at Steve._ _

__“Well, well. What was that about, huh?”_ _

__“I thought you like my fire, Hargrove?” Steve dipped his head to place an open mouthed kiss to the bump of bone that marked Billy’s clavicle. “Didn’t you wanna meet King Steve?”_ _

__Billy chuckled breathlessly and wrapped one leg around Steve’s waist, rocking up just enough to let Steve feel his hard on, still trapped in his own jeans._ _

__“You’re sure you’re ready for that? You’re only just past the thought experiment stage. Wouldn’t wanna…hey.” He cupped Steve’s cheek, interrupting the line of kisses he was laying across Billy’s collarbone so he could see Steve’s eyes. “You don't have to. I’m good for now. Besides, if you change your mind halfway through, I’m gonna be pissed.”_ _

__In response, Steve leaned in and pressed his mouth to Billy’s, sucking gently at his full bottom lip, breaking away only press back in. He tried to put every ounce of care in to it, all the times he felt like doing nothing more than touching Billy, running his hands over any part of him, grounding him with his presence. He parted his lips and slipped his tongue into Billy’s mouth and Steve tried to convey every thought, every glance, all the times he’d been distracted by Billy and by the absence of Billy. It was more than he’d realized, more than he’d admitted to himself, and he poured that into the kiss as well, making it a confession and admission and an apology too, for taking so long to see it, for all the days spent doing anything other than this. Steve felt like he was rebuilding his world with this kiss, laying a foundation in the perfect bow of Billy’s lip, raising walls of slick wet heat, adding a roof that tasted like smoke and pizza and blood._ _

__Steve laid waste to Billy like he hadn’t that night at the Byers, and Billy melted beneath him without a sound, yielding gracefully under the steady onslaught._ _

__They parted slowly, and Steve carefully opened his eyes to meet Billy’s which were cloudy with satisfaction and emotion. He tried to remember what they’d been talking about._ _

__“I want to. Wanna make you feel good. Wanna taste you too.” Steve had barely said it when he realized it was true, arousal burning deep in his belly again. He wanted to map every inch of Billy with his eyes and his hands and his teeth until he had it committed to memory._ _

__Billy’s smile slid onto his face like the slow drip of honey as his arms stretched out over his head and his knees fell to the side, opening himself up until he looked like sin itself sprawled on Steve’s living room floor._ _

__“Well then. Do your worst.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, babes, we've reached the end of my chapter buffer between what I've got finished and edited and what's still half-formed fic from the void. Updates will likely slow down a bit but maybe not, who knows? Enjoy.


	9. you love to be somebody's enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One step forward, one step back, and the boys finally get a little sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I updated! **insert JVN Can You Believe gif here**

Steve considered him for a moment, all the tanned flesh bared for his exploration, and he hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to do this with a guy. And he didn’t know how to make it good. Steve had always been the type of guy who made sure his partners had a good time. 

What Billy had done...Steve hadn’t come that fast in a long time. Something about the night, the aftermath of all the emotions swirling around them these past three weeks...hell, longer than that. Since the first night Billy had appeared out of the crowd at the party, chest bare and gaze like a knife cutting through the room. It felt like Steve had been caught up in Billy ever since. He licked his lips and sat back on his heels, one hand running through his hair.

“What uh, what do you like?”

Billy’s smug expression faltered a bit, a hint of confusion showing up.

“What?”

Steve was blushing, could feel the heat on his cheeks, but he carried on, one hand starting to gently stroke Billy’s side as if he couldn’t bear not to touch.

“Tell me what you like.” He repeated firmly.

The look of seduction and sin slipped away from Billy’s face and he swallowed hard, eyes wide and locked onto Steve’s. He looked caught off guard, wrong-footed. Something about that made Steve feel better, the possibility that he wasn’t the only one who was new at all this. Steve’s hand slid a little higher up and he shifted to lean over Billy, propping himself up on his other arm. Billy just watched him silently, and something about having him spread beneath him sent a thrill through Steve.

“I told you.” Steve’s voice was lower now, more seductive, and he tilted his head down to look up through his lashes. This wasn’t so different than being with a girl. “I wanna make you feel good, like you did for me. So what do you like, hmm?”

Steve continued to stroke over Billy’s side, just enjoying the feel of him. Billy’s hands came up to rest on his hips again, holding him so lightly that it felt like he wasn’t touching him at all.

“Take this off.” Billy whispered, tugging at his shirt. Steve let him pull it off, tossing it somewhere behind them, more confidence coming back as he saw Billy’s eyes darken in appreciation. 

“Now what?” Steve smiled just a bit, licking his lips, and Billy groaned as his eyes tracked the movement. 

“I want-” He broke off and swallowed hard, fingers spasming against Steve’s waistband as he bit his lip.

“Anything.” Steve couldn’t help it,he ducked down to press his lips to the spot Billy had bitten before he pulled back just a little, his own excitement started to ramp back up. “I’ll do anything, Billy, just say it, just tell me how.”

“Fuck.” Billy swore softly under his breath before he replied. “Your mouth. Want your mouth on me. Like you said, I want that.”

_Put my mouth on you and suck. Wanna taste you too._

Steve’s own words came back to him, from earlier that night-and had it only been that night? Steve felt like it had been weeks in this room, months of Billy beneath him and over him and everywhere-and he took a breath. 

He hadn’t really been thinking when he said that, had been more focused on the new and confusing desires crowding his head. But now, with Billy under him, spread out and asking, he wanted to do that. He leaned back in a bit, uncertain, and exhaled in a rush. Billy shivered as the air brushed over him. Steve smiled.

“Just uh, tell if I’m doing it wrong, okay?” He dropped a faint open kiss on the corner of Billy’s mouth, another on the curve of his jaw, trailing down his neck. “Keep talking to me.”

Billy let out a faint laugh and leaned his head to the side to give Steve more room. 

“About what, pretty boy?”

Steve nipped at his collarbone in exchange for the nickname. 

“What I’m doing. What you want me to do. What you wanna to do me next time.” He reached Billy’s chest and paused, mouth hovering over one small brown nipple, before he decided that if girls liked it, Billy might too and let his tongue slip out to lick.

“Ne-Next time?” Billy gasped and arched his back to get closer to Steve, who frowned a bit and moved his hand to gently push him back to the carpet. “We doing this again?”

“Easy on your ribs.” He placed a series of kisses along them for emphasis. “And yeah, we’re gonna do this a lot, I think.” He reached Billy’s abs and, on a whim, sank his teeth into a ridge of muscle, feeling a rush of pleasure at the whine and muttered curse Billy let out. He kissed the same spot to ease the sting and then looked up, hands resting on the button fly of Billy’s jeans. “Now here’s where I need a little direction...”

Billy thumped his head against the ground for a minute, jaw clenching, before he propped himself up on his elbows and looked down his body towards Steve. 

“You ever done this before?” Steve shook his head, eyes wide, and mouth watering. Billy groaned again and let his head fall back. “Mary, mother of God.” Steve popped the first button. “Okay, just uh. Shit, have you ever gotten one of these before?”

“One of what’s?” Steve asked innocently, even as he undid another button, tugging a bit more than necessary on the denim. Billy lifted his head to glare at him.

“A blowjob, Harrington. You ever had your cock sucked?”

Steve shivered, the sound of Billy’s voice as it formed the word ‘cock’ was sinful. 

“Yeah, once or twice at parties.” Billy hissed through his teeth, looking like everything Steve said caused him immense pain. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna blow your mind later. Literally.” Steve sniggered and Billy manage a smirk before he licked his lips, chest rising and falling rapidly. “Just...do what you think feels good. Keep your teeth off it. And I’ll tell you if something comes to mind.” 

Steve took him at his word and opened his jeans and sure enough, a few things came to Billy’s mind that Steve was all too willing to learn. 

School on Monday was a new kind of torture. It felt like Steve had an extra sense designed specifically to notice Billy. He saw him in the halls, in class, across the cafeteria-any possible moment he could, Steve felt a buzzing in his belly that had him glancing up to meet blue eyes and a wicked grin.

Even when Billy wasn’t around, was safely locked away in another class, Steve felt consumed by his memories of Friday night. Of muscles slick with sweat, lips bruised from kissing, hesitant hands guiding his own as he felt his way through unfamiliar territory. Of the taste of Billy, salty and clean, the weight on his tongue, the sounds Billy had made as he came, cursing and shaking on Steve’s carpet.

Walking across the parking lot that afternoon, Steve felt that buzzing again and turned his head to see Billy leaning up against the roof of the Camaro, staring back without a care for who saw him. He mouthed something, hand raking through his hair.

_Yours. Ten o’clock._

Steve felt himself flush as he nodded quickly and got in his car, driving off before he did something stupid like press Billy against sun-warm metal and kiss the daylights out of him.

It was somewhat unsettling, how quickly Steve had gone from never thinking about guys that way to being nearly insane with desire for Billy Hargrove. He’d spent most of the weekend turning the idea over in his head.

Okay, he’d spent most of the weekend in his bed and in the shower doing only as much thinking as was needed to conjure images of what he and Billy could do the next time they were together but the rest of the time he’d spent thinking.

Was he gay? He didn’t think so. He’d loved Nancy. Had been wild and heartbroken over her in equal measure. There’d been others too; Heather in fifth grade who gave him his first kiss. A girl at summer camp who he swore he was gonna marry. Carol, who had fumblingly exchanged virginities with him before she burst into tears and confessed how much she wanted Tommy.

But. Steve had to admit, if only to himself, that he had maybe seen Risky Business a few times more than he should have. That his eyes had been on Tom Cruise a little more than whatever the girl’s name was. Could you like both? Was that a thing? Billy would know, Steve was sure.

The rest of the afternoon crawled by. Steve puttered around the house, half-heartedly did some homework, made himself a sandwich. At 7, he took a shower, drank a beer, took out the trash. At 8:45, he vacuumed the living room and did the dishes, feeling anxious about nothing in particular. At 9:30, he found himself fluffing the couch cushions like his mother and he buried his face in his hands and groaned. This was ridiculous. He felt like one of the kids. He flipped on the stereo and threw himself onto the sofa, Cyndi Lauper describing girls wanting to have fun in the background. Steve closed his eyes and resolved not to let the idea of Billy cross his mind until he got there. 

Several songs later and Steve was bargaining with himself. After the next song ended, he could check the clock. 10:15. He sank back against the couch and tried not to give into worry over what could be keeping Hargrove, while also trying to ignore the feeling that there wasn’t anything keeping him, that Billy was not someone who could be kept.

At midnight, he went to bed and tried not to feel anything at all.

Sometime in the night, Steve stumbled to the bathroom, too half-asleep to turn on the lights, monsters be damned. He was almost back to his mattress when a faint orange glow outside his window stopped him in his tracks. It was tiny but steady, occasionally flaring a bit brighter, like the tip of a match or...

Or the end of a cigarette.

Steve stormed over and flung the window open, vitriol backing up in his throat as the moonlight fell on blood-matted curls, the purple night turning bruises to black smudges. Steve snapped his mouth closed and swallowed, turning to rest one hip on the window sill. Billy had to have been aware of him but he stayed silent, smoke slipping through his lips every other breath. 

Steve wasn't sure what to say so he settled on the simplest truth he could offer.

"I missed you."

"Yeah. Yeah, I missed you too." Billy exhaled slowly, painfully, and tossed the filter he was holding off the roof's edge.

"You been out here long?" Steve found his gaze locked on the cracks in the paint on his wall. _Why had he let his mother do plaid?_ Billy said nothing. “You should have woken me up. I told you, that shit will get infected." Billy sighed again and Steve glanced at the glow of his clock on the nightstand.

3:48AM

"Sorry." Billy said abruptly, one hand rubbing at his face. His knuckles were bloody, the skin ripped open and flecked with dirt.

"For what?"

"Not being here. Not calling or some shit. For messing it up." His voice was bitter and heavy.

"Nobody's perfect." Steve offered.

"You are." Billy rolled his head to look at him and there was tired resignation on his face, like someone facing a moment they'd known was coming. Steve wanted to laugh but the night felt like it was made of glass. Steve didn't want to shatter it, shatter him.

"I'm really not." Billy smiled faintly but didn't reply. "You wanna come in?" Steve stepped to the side, beyond relieved when Billy crawled in and stood, shoulders slumped.

"Your dad?" Billy shook his head and Steve felt something in him tense. Who else was out there leaving marks on Billy? How many fists were finding their way into his path?

"Tommy." Steve's eyes widened even as he gently herded Billy to sit on the edge of the desk. He reached for the lamp and Billy grabbed his arm to stay the motion. “Don’t. 'S not pretty.” 

“I need to see it. Need to get it cleaned up. Who the hell knows where Tommy’s been?” Billy snorted and let him go, wincing as the light flared on. Steve cleaned him up quietly, relieved when most of the blood wiped off and only a few cuts were revealed. There were more bruises than anything, and Steve figured they had wound up in a clinch, too close to each other to swing with full force. Steve knew from personal experience that Billy was hard to knock off balance in a fight. _Plant your feet._

Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, Steve tossed his bag of supplies back into the closet and stood, at a loss for what to do next. Billy shrugged out of his jacket, revealing a grey henley spotted with blood, and then it was his turn to herd Steve across the room, until his legs hit his bed and they sank down onto it. 

“We should get some sleep.” He muttered, painfully aware of Billy’s warm body inches from his own, of the strong hands taking Billy’s weight as he leaned back onto the mattress. Steve suddenly wished he had made the bed up when he got out of it, wished he was wearing something other than a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, wished his hair wasn’t sticking up the way it always did when he first woke up. 

“We should.” Billy agreed, eyes dark and tongue slipping out to wet his lips. “I’m not real big on doing what I should though.”

“Yeah, I kinda noticed that.” Steve shot him a look and Billy just drew his leg up onto the bed, knees spread almost indecently, and Steve couldn’t stop his gaze from falling on the thick line resting along his thigh. 

“I’d kinda like to show you what I was planning on us doing tonight, if I hadn’t gotten sidetracked.” Billy’s gaze was a tangible thing as it raked up and down Steve’s body. “But if you’re too tired, I could amuse myself, I guess.” Tanned fingers tapped innocently on the waistband of his jeans and Steve groaned as he stood to turn out the light.

“You really are such an asshole.” 

Billy grinned, delight in every feature, as Steve came back to the bed and leaned over him. 

“Aw, baby, don’t be that way.” 

Steve suppressed a shiver at the pet name and straddled him, noting the look of surprise at his bold move. He could feel the firm strength of Billy’s stomach underneath him, thin boxers barely a barrier at all to the press of Billy’s denim trapped cock against the curve of Steve’s ass. But he could also see the faint lines on Billy’s face, revealing his lingering discomfort. His ideas from the weekend of all the things they could do flashed through his mind as he leaned down and pressed his lips to the cut on Billy’s cheek, then to the bruise under his eye, the red mark on his jaw. Billy stilled under him.

“Not that I’m not a fan of whatever you were thinking of but…” Steve shifted to lay next to him, pressed close, swallowing at the idea that Billy might scoff and leave, might slip back out the window and off into the night for someone who’d be more than happy to be shown whatever Billy wanted. “Can we just-could you sleep with me for awhile?”

Billy’s eyes were wide in the dark, whites visible as he stared at him and Steve fidgeted uncomfortably. What kind of an idiot asks if they can sleep instead of have sex? How fucking dumb could he be? He was just about to laugh and suggest something else when Billy rolled over to face him, shoulders curving in to create a space all their own, one leg slipping between Steve’s like a key into a lock.

“Yeah.” Billy whispered and something soft unfurled in Steve’s chest, like something was spreading its wings next to his heart. They lay there quietly as the house settled around them, and Steve could feel the way Billy kept his eyes on him, could smell the faintest hint of smoke and beer as he slipped into sleep with his hand on the bed between their bodies.

Steve woke up abruptly the next morning, heart pounding and hands clenching around a bat that wasn’t there. He blinked away the afterimages of the nightmare-the horror of endless tunnels filled with demodogs, the sight of the kids’ lifeless bodies, the feeling of vines wrapping around his chest and squeezing the air out of his lungs.

“You really suck at English, you know that?”

Billy’s voice cut through the lingering panic and Steve finally noticed him, sitting at his desk and idly making notes on one of Steve’s homework assignments as he smoked a cigarette. His face looked better in the morning light, the marks that Steve had been sure would bruise were barely noticeable, only a hint of a darker patch at the base of his right eye showing the beating he'd taken. There were still flecks of blood in his hair and stains on his shirt but overall he looked...well, he looked like Billy so basically any of Steve's wet dreams from the past three days. He’d taken off his boots at some point and the sight of his socked feet curled around the rungs of Steve’s desk chair was oddly especially enticing.

“Uh,” Steve coughed to clear the sleep from his voice, trying to hold onto the thread of the conversation. “Yeah, believe me, Mr. Clemmons has made that very clear.” Billy made another note on the worksheet before adding it to a stack on his left. “What are you doing?”

“Saving you from summer school. Or possibly having to repeat the entire grade.”

“Don’t bother.” Steve flushed and busied himself with pulling on a pair of pants and a shirt, suddenly uncomfortable with his state of exposure. “I’m gonna scrape past it anyway, along with the rest of them. I’m lucky my diploma’s bought and paid for.” He was searching under his bed for his other sneaker when a strong hand suddenly pulled him up by the arm. Billy was frowning, brows drawn heavily together and his jaw set even though it must have pulled painfully at his bruises.

“What the fuck does that mean?” 

Steve shook him off and brushed his hair out of his eyes, thrown by the sudden anger. 

“It means I’m not gonna be valedictorian anytime soon. I’m pretty dumb about that kind of stuff. Words and shit.” He shrugged and stepped around the other boy to go take a leak. Billy stopped him with another hand on his arm, tugging him back into his personal space.

“You’re not that bad. I was kidding, Harrington. You need practice maybe, but the answers are all there.” Blue eyes searched his face for a moment. “You really think you’re dumb?” 

“Well, yeah.” Steve shifted his weight back and forth, confused. Hadn’t Billy noticed the giant C’s and B’s on all his homework? The corrections in red pen from his teachers? It didn’t take that much smarts to figure out he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box. “I mean, I’m kinda barely getting by in everything and without the basketball team needing me, I don’t think my teachers are gonna do me any favors. But I’ll still like, graduate or whatever. Math is okay, and shop. I do all the extra credit.” 

Billy’s frown only deepened but he let Steve pull away. 

“You have all the right answers mostly, you just don’t explain it the way they want you to, is all. Teachers just want to hear the textbook puked back at them or else they get pissy.” 

Steve shrugged and headed to the bathroom. “Not a big deal.”

When he got back in the room, Billy was dressed and sitting on the window sill, another cigarette in his mouth.

“Do front doors offend you or something?” Steve grabbed his school bag and dropped the stack of papers with Billy’s neat printing on them inside. “I know they aren’t as badass as falling two stories to the patio but I won’t tell if you don’t.” Billy flipped him off but his mouth twitched in a smile.

“Didn’t think your parents would appreciate a random stranger suddenly appearing from their son’s bedroom at 6 in the morning.”

“They wouldn’t notice. And they aren’t here anyway.” Steve stopped in the doorway. “You want some cereal or something?”

“Weren’t they gone on Friday night? They travel for business or something?” Billy was frowning again.

“They’ve been gone all weekend.” Steve waved his hand. “My dad travels for work and my mom travels to make sure the only thing he’s _doing_ is work and sometimes they travel just to travel. I think they’re in Pittsburgh this week? Or Poughkeepsie. Palm Springs? Something with a P.”

Billy’s frown slipped into a thoughtful sort of look as he tossed the filter away and stood, letting the window slip shut behind him as he crossed the room, brushing full body up against Steve as he passed him. 

“So you’ve got a whole house to yourself this week?” His voice pitched low and Steve was suddenly very aware of the way his jeans clung to the curves of his ass as he descended the stairs. “Might have to have some study sessions then. You know-” He glanced back over his shoulder as he rounded the corner into the kitchen, eyes promising he had an entirely different sort of education in mind. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on anything.”

Steve had to adjust his jeans before he could follow.


	10. the battle is underway, maybe times are gonna change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve develops feelings. Billy fucks things up. Neil is at fault but Steve doesn't know it. And things get worse before they get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so first things first: Trigger warnings for Billy being an aggressive dick and grinding on Steve when he's not really into it. Also for Billy using qu**r as a slur.
> 
> Second things second: part of the hold up with this story is realizing that half the stuff I planned to include actually needs to be in Billy's POV which this is not. So there's probably gonna be some follow-ups at some point where Billy gets to have his say, the mouthy fuck.

As distracting as Monday had been, the next two weeks were both better and worse. The electricity between them had changed from a tension filled buzz to a warm sort of tingle. More than once, Steve had looked up to find Billy suddenly passing him with a comment on everything from the latest school drama to whatever class Steve had just left, most of them funny or biting or downright crude to the point of making Steve break out laughing in the hallway. It earned him a few curious glances from people who knew the history between them-Steve’s title being taken and Billy’s new reign-but Billy didn’t linger long enough to raise any serious speculation.

For the most part, they stayed away from each other at school but more often than not Billy showed up at Steve’s house after dark, usually carrying a bottle of something and half the time sporting a wound that needed tending. But after he let Steve fuss and clean it, Billy would pull him up to his room and wrap himself around him, showing Steve how to tilt his hips and rock against him to completion, threading thick fingers into his hair to get a better angle for his mouth to leave faint marks along the muscle in Steve’s neck. Billy did nothing half-assed and making out was no exception. 

But Steve’s favorite part was after, when they laid there panting and coming down, one of Billy’s ever present cigarettes in his mouth. Billy would quiz him on his classes that day, sometimes explaining things Steve didn’t get or adding tricks for remembering facts. Steve could feel something growing in those moments, something like the way he’d felt about Nancy. Eventually Billy would drift to sleep next to him, head always turned to press against his neck, one hand curled around Steve’s ribcage. Steve would fight as long as possible to stay awake just a bit longer then, to feel the weight and warmth of Billy by his side. His grades were a bit better and his nightmares had lessened and Steve began to imagine that it might be nice to have this kind of thing all the time.

He should have known better.

Billy showed up on a Thursday without a mark on him but a cloud of dangerous rage following as he stalked up the stairs, leaving Steve to trail cautiously behind. Steve had been gearing himself up to ask if they could skip the makeout tonight, had been wanting nothing more than to curl into Billy’s warmth and just be for a while. He didn’t think that would go over so great right now. For the first time in awhile, Steve was reminded that this was the boy who had beaten him unconscious.

“Everything okay?”

Billy ignored him and ripped his jacket off, throwing it across the room with so much force that it hit the opposite wall.

“Billy?” Steve reached out to touch his shoulder, eyes scanning for bruises or cuts on his torso. He was so distracted by the search that he was caught off-guard as Billy spun around and captured his mouth in a punishing kiss, his tongue diving harshly into Steve’s mouth to curl over his teeth as his hands gripped Steve’s hips tight enough to bruise.

“What the fuck, Billy?” Steve broke the kiss to lean back, wrong-footed and trying to catch up even as he let Billy’s mouth suck down the side of his neck, teeth scraping over the curve of his shoulder. He gripped Billy’s shoulders, feeling the coiled ferocity in them, completely at odds with Billy’s usual fluid movement. Most of the time, Billy moved like an overgrown housecat, all rippling strength and easy power. This Billy was more like stone, hard and unyielding as it pushed him back against the wall, the bones of his hips digging almost painfully into Steve’s own.

“Billy. Billy, what’s wrong?” Steve gasped and Billy growled deep in his chest, not stopping his harsh movements despite the lack of Steve’s participation.

“Nothing. This is what you want, right Harrington? Somebody to fuck when the mood strikes you? Little walk on the wild side?” His voice was dripping with disdain and Steve shoved him back, anger rising in him. 

“What the actual fuck, asshole?” Billy sneered at him and Steve’s stomach dropped. He scoffed and pushed off the wall, running a hand through his hand as he laughed at himself. “Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I thought-” He broke off and looked away, unable to handle the sight of Billy but that didn’t stop him from hearing his words.

“Thought what?” 

“Nothing. Forget it.” Steve shook his head and blinked rapidly, rubbing at the sore marks on his neck.

“Thought what, Harrington.” Billy’s voice was quiet and Steve hadn’t felt so rattled by his behavior he might have noticed the guarded tone to his words.

“I said fucking forget it.” He moved to go back downstairs and Billy grabbed his arm again.

If it hadn’t been for the tension in the air, the anger so present in Billy’s every move, the tight grasp of his fingers so at odds with his usual handling of Steve, he never would have done it. But the rough yank on his shoulder had him reacting without thought and he spun, barely stopping himself from throwing a punch that nonetheless had Billy’s head flinching to the left. 

Steve froze in horror, hand still clenched as Billy seemed to vanish before his eyes, eyes going cold and resigned.

“Oh god, Billy, I didn’t-” He reached for him and Billy stepped back. Steve felt like throwing up. “I didn’t mean to, I-” Billy shook his head ruefully and the look on his face was brutal acceptance, like Steve had finally done what Billy had always known he would.

“Fucking forget it, Harrington.” Billy mocked as he stormed out of the room, slamming his shoulder into Steve’s as he passed him. “You’re a lousy lay anyway.” Steve scrambled after him, still reeling from what had just happened.

“Billy, wait, shit, I’m sor-” Billy laughed harshly, cutting him off as spun back around and crowded into Steve’s face.

“I mean, god, do you know how many times I would have fucked anybody else by now? But oh no, _King Steve_ has to play fucking nursemaid before he can get his rocks off and god forbid anybody actually get fucked, oh no, that would offend his ideas of romance and happily fucking ever after.” He spat the words into Steve’s face. “Newsflash. Queers don’t get that kind of _bullshit_. And only an _idiot_ believes anything different.”

Billy slammed out of the house, leaving Steve alone with a feeling like he had fallen into the Upside Down all over again.


	11. get back where you started from

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy and Steve are thrust back together for all the wrong reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ihni has been leaving me beautiful comments and inspired me to dust this off. I still don’t know exactly how long it will be or when I’ll get it completed but I’m still trying. 
> 
> Content warnings for blood and mentions of violence/abuse.

The next morning was a blur. Steve woke up on the couch where he had fallen asleep holding his bat, and he had barely managed to get dressed for school. The sight of Billy’s leather jacket crumpled on the floor felt like a punch in the gut. _Like the punch he’d practically thrown at Billy._

Steve’s stomach churned as he pulled into the parking lot, eyes scanning for a familiar blue Camaro. He was dimly aware of Dustin coming up to him and asking him something about after school, only looking at him once he confirmed that Billy’s car wasn’t in the lot.

“-which is totally not fair because Mike is the one who decided to cut the hole in the wall but anyway, can we?”

“Can you what?” Dustin rolled his eyes.

“Can the party come over to your place after school for Max’s first campaign?”

“I thought you guys always played at Mike’s?” Dustin groaned dramatically and rolled his eyes so hard his entire head moved.

“I just told you, Mrs. Wheeler said we couldn’t play DnD there anymore because Mike’s a butthead. So? After school?” Steve shrugged and nodded and Dustin punched the air.

“Awesome! Oh and you can give us all a ride right? Thanks Steve!” He ran off and Steve sighed as he made his way into the high school.

Billy wasn’t anywhere to be found throughout the day and Steve found himself missing the warm rush seeing him always brought. Not that it mattered. After what he’d done, he’d be lucky if Billy didn’t attack him on sight, let alone let him apologize. But god, did he want to apologize. He wondered if Billy was okay, if Neil had done something, if even now Billy was bleeding and bruised and no one was taking care of him. 

Steve drifted through the day, ignoring anyone save a teacher who tried to talk to him. He mind kept going back to last night, to the look on Billy’s face after he’d nearly hit him, the way he had looked heartbroken as he told Steve that there wasn’t a happy ending for them. He’d been so different from the Billy Steve had come to know. Back to the tense and angry boy looking for a fight he’d been that night at the Byers’ and Steve’s stomach churned at the possibilities his mind came up with for what had set him back so far.

He drove the kids to his house after school, letting them in and helping them move the furniture around to Mike’s exacting specifications before stepping back as they pulled out boards and figures and notebooks. He headed to the kitchen for snacks, trying to think of a way to casually ask Max where Billy was when he heard a faint noise from outside.

Opening the door, Steve caught his breath and felt his heart leap into his throat.

Billy was on his knees on the walkway, hand fumbling for the hose, looking like he’d been beaten to within an inch of his life, blood covering the side of his face and splattered over his jacket front. Without a thought, Steve was at his side, dropping to his knees, hands hovering over Billy’s back. Absently, Steve noticed that his boots were missing, mud caking the cuffs of his jeans.

“What the fuck, Billy, what happened?!” He wanted to wrap his arms around the blond to steady him but he wasn’t sure how it would be received after they way they left things last time. Billy swayed towards him regardless, leaning into Steve’s open palms as he tried to get his feet under him. 

“-steve?” His voice was soft and cracked, and Steve swallowed his fear and slid his arms around him, helping him up and taking his weight as he staggered into Steve’s side, burying his head in Steve’s neck. The smell of whiskey washed over him and Steve almost gagged. It smelt like Billy had bathed in the stuff.

“Yeah, I’m here. Jesus Billy, we gotta get you to the hospital.” Billy flinched and tighten his grip, a shudder wracking his body.

“Nonono, no doctors-” He coughed and spat something on the grass, keeping his face turned away. “Just, just want you. Steve, I’m so fucking sorry-” He broke off into coughing again and Steve hurried to calm him down.

“Easy, easy. Let’s go inside, come on.” He slung Billy’s arm over his shoulder and started staggering towards the house, thinking only of getting Billy to his stash of supplies. They barely made it in the front door, Billy’s legs struggling to hold him up and Steve’s wavering under the other boy’s weight. He was concentrating so hard on walking the short distance across the entryway he completely forgot about the kids.

“What the hell is he doing here?!?” Dustin’s voice was shrill and Steve nearly took them both to the floor out of surprise, barely managing to catch himself on the table.

“He’s hurt, and we’re...friends.” It sounded lame even to Steve but he had no idea how to explain what he and Billy were to each other to himself let alone a thirteen year old.

“Friends?! He’s a psychopath!” Dustin barred the door to the living room as if he could have physically prevent them from entering it. Steve ignored him and turned the opposite way, wincing as Billy gasped from the movement. 

“He beat the crap out of you, he practically tried to kill you!” Dustin yelled at their backs, as if Steve somehow forgot. 

“‘S a compliment. That’s how Hargroves show affection.” Billy slurred with a laugh and Steve snorted, shoving his face back into the crook of his neck as they went into the kitchen. 

“Dustin, shut up and get the first aid kit out of my bathroom. The big one behind the towels, not that crappy thing under the sink.” Dustin stomped off and Steve maneuvered Billy’s unprotesting body until he was sitting on the table, legs hanging off the edge and back hunched over so he could keep his face against Steve’s neck. Steve sighed and rested his chin against Billy’s head for a moment, trying to figure out how he was going to deal with the kids freaking out about this.

“You are a giant pain in my ass, you know that? Jacket off first, ready?” Billy made a sound that might have been agreement and Steve continued to talk as he began tugging the blonde’s denim jacket down his arms. 

“Bad enough you knocked me out and scared the shit out of the kids, now you show up looking like you went ten rounds with a liquor store the one night I’m not the only person in this house.” The jacket came off with effort, Steve working the stiff denim down an inch at a time, revealing the worn t-shirt underneath. Billy just let himself be shifted around, always keeping his face buried in some part of Steve’s upper body. “Which means I’m gonna have to explain everything while you get to black out and sleep.”

“Not gonna black out, just need...need a minute.” Billy mumbled into Steve’s collarbone with a harsh sniff. “Fucking bottle hit me right in the head.” 

Steve paused for a minute and then carefully ran his hands up Billy’s arms to the sides of his neck, thumbs stroking the soft skin behind his ears. 

“That why you won’t let me see your face, asshole?” Billy sniffed again and when he spoke his words were clearer, voice tired as if he thought Steve was going to yell at him, distress increasing as he stumbled through an explanation, small coughs and gasps breaking up the words.

“It hurts. There’s people. Wasn’t gonna come in but. Couldn’t get the hose to work. You’re always...always bitchin’ about cleaning my cuts out. So I tried to-I fucking tried-”

“Okay, okay.” Steve cut him off, shushing him and huddling closer, arms aching with the urge to hold him. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you. But you gotta let me see your face, all right? I need to take care of it. That’s the deal.” Billy whined in frustration, a low sound in the back of his throat and Steve shot a look at where the rest of the Party was hovering in the doorway, a fierce glare telling them not to cross the threshold, lingering on Max’s confused face before he turned his attention back to Billy. 

“Nobody’s looking, okay? Just dumb old me.” He let one hand gently brush Billy’s hair back and tilted his head to speak into Billy’s ear. “Come on, show me those baby blues, hmm.”

Billy slowly raised his head and Steve sucked in a breath at what he saw, swearing under his breath. “God damn it.” One hand came up and hovered over Billy’s cheek like Steve was afraid to touch him. 

There was a massive red mark on the left side of Billy’s face, from his temple to his jaw, and a jagged cut peeked out from under his hairline, blood still oozing from it and trailing down his neck. Small cuts were scattered around his left eye, where the skin was puffy and swelling. There was even a line of blood running across the bridge of his nose, like he’d laid on his side somewhere long enough for it to dry before he was able to get up and away. Or had been unable to think of where to go, since Steve had turned out just like the rest of them.

Billy still wouldn’t sit up straight and Steve had a sinking suspicion as to why. He must have looked furious because Billy refused to meet his gaze, sullenly looking past him somewhere and Steve could feel his anger surging to swirl with the guilt he’d been carrying ever since that morning, could felt his teeth grinding and his brow furrowing. 

“It’s not that bad.” Billy mumbled again, and made to duck his head back down but Steve stopped him with a careful fistful of blond curls, gently feeling for bumps or more cuts as he took the weight of Billy’s head in his hands.

“I need to-” He broke off and swallowed, closing his eyes for a second before meeting Billy’s gaze again, pushing the fury and guilt aside and focusing on the need to patch Billy up. “I need to clean that and stitch it up. And then you’re gonna crash in my room. All night. No arguments.”

Billy nodded and that more than anything told Steve how badly he was injured. Billy always pushed at the limits Steve gave him, always tried to negotiate and stubborn his way into the least amount of caring he was willing to accept. And to come back here, where Steve had so horribly betrayed his trust...If he was here, in front of the kids, taking orders from Steve that were set to last all night long, he was suffering from more than a beer bottle to the head. Steve shot the kids another look and made a split-second decision. 

“I need to see all of it. So shirt next. You ready?” Billy made an unhappy sound and one hand picked uselessly at the thin cotton he was wearing. 

“Can’t raise my arms again. Just...just rip it, I don’t care.” Steve sighed. The shirt was a plain white one, not one of Billy’s band shirts or anything that obviously had a memory attached to it but still. He didn’t like having to destroy it on account of Neil. He thought for a minute and then leaned back a bit to look at him easier.

“How about I cut the sleeves off? Like those muscle shirts you wear? Think we can get that over your head? Hmm?” Billy nodded hesitantly, looking a little relieved at not having to have the shirt ruined and Steve smiled at him, trying to soften his next words.

“I’m gonna need a hand though, so I don’t cut you. Can-” Billy was already shaking his head, leaning back and making like he was going to try and stand up, maybe leave, voice coming out low and aggressive. 

“No, nobody else, you promised. I don’t _want_ anybody else, fuck that shit, I can deal with it-” Steve quickly closed the distance between them, using his body to block Billy’s escape at the same time he pressed Billy’s face back into his neck, trying to get him to calm down before he managed to work himself up into a full blown rage that wouldn’t end well for anybody.

“I know, I know I did but I need a hand and you can’t reach behind your own back, babe, even you’re not that talented, okay? Come on, listen to me. Listen to me, Billy.” Billy struggled a little in Steve’s arms but they both knew that if he really wanted to, he’d have Steve on his ass in a heartbeat. 

Finally, Billy’s hands crept around Steve’s waist and he buried his head more deeply into the curve of Steve’s shoulder. Steve dropped his chin down to brush his lips against the curve of Billy’s ear. 

“You gotta say it. If there was any other way, I’d do it. You know I would. But I need help. And I need you to say okay.”


End file.
